The Sharp Knife of a Short Life
by katsparkle13
Summary: The 69th Hunger Games was just another year filled with forgotten tributes. But they each had a story to tell. This is told from the POVs of 4 main characters. Who will win? The rebellious boy from 6? The Career with a secret? The vengeful boy from 10? Will it be the girl from 11 who everyone overlooks? The main question is-will you forget them?
1. Sparks of Rebellion D6

**Bentley (Ben) Tucker, District 6**

I try to muffle the faint sounds of sobbing seeping through my door. While I press the pillow against my ears, I have a small conflict going on inside me. Should I try to sleep in while I can? Or should I go onto the next room and comfort Anglia? She's definitely a sensitive kid who cries just about all the time, but this is her first Reaping. Everybody cries. So I grunt and get out of bed. As I shuffle down the hallway, I see my parents still asleep. Why don't they just comfort Anglia? She's their kid, not mine. Then again, she might as well be. Our parents spend so much time at the factory making hovercraft engines that they are hardly ever home. It's only natural they're sleeping in today because it's the one day they're off work. I open Anglia's door. She's a mess. Her already tiny figure is curled into a little ball at the foot of the bed. Her breath is coming out in short gasps. I help her uncurl and she puts her head on my shoulder. We stay like that for a little. "Don't be scared, rabbit." That's my nickname for her, since she twitches her nose whenever she's nervous. It's actually kind of cute. She stares at me with alarmingly flat eyes. "This little rabbit's headed for the slaughter." She says equally flatly. Just then, it hits me. She's not a little kid anymore. She knows what she's saying. Where is my sweet, sensitive innocent little rabbit? She's been replaced by a young woman who's seen far too much. Well, I know whose fault that is.

I've always alarmed my parents and teachers alike with my opinions on the government. You could always count on me to be voicing my thoughts. Like how they should all rot in prison. Once, during the most recent workers strike, almost eight years ago I might add, I decided to pick up a sign and protest with them. I may have been only ten, but I knew what I was doing. The mayor ordered Peacekeepers to open fire. Except on me, I guess. He personally dragged me home and gave my parents a "serious talk." Later the next day though, when I was walking to school, a man grabbed me and pulled me into a back alley. Apparently, I was just what the rebel force needed. A little kid would help them play the pity card. So he invited me to join and I accepted. Now I know "rebel force" is an understatement. We don't do anything. We can't do anything. So I gave it up because it might land my family in deep trouble. But I'm still waiting for my chance at rebellion.

I stir some tesserae mush in a pot while Anglia swings her feet at the table. Though not the most powerful skill, I'm pretty good at cooking. With no parents around and a little sister who's five years younger, I kind of have to be. As I spoon some into her bowl, my parents come down and join us at the table. It's so quiet I feel like I could explode. If my kids were about to undergo a lottery of death, I don't think I would be quietly sitting at a table spooning porridge in my mouth! So I lash out at my dad. "So, how does daddy feel about his kids getting sent to the death?" My voice drips with sarcasm. My mother puts down her spoon, shocked. "Ben" my father whispers through clenched teeth. I take that as a sign to go. Once in my room I put on a clean pair of tan pants and a collared shirt with just a small hole at the corner. I slip on my worn and ratty dress shoes. Gotta look nice for your death sentence, right? My name is in that bowl thirty-four times. Anglia's is in only twice. I really tried so she wouldn't have to sign up for tesserae. I sit on my bed and think until it's time to leave for the square. I do that sometimes, just thinking on my bed as the hours pass. I have a lot to think about, I guess. I pound down the stairs, where Anglia's waiting at the foot. She tugs my sleeve. "Like my outfit, Benny?" She twirls in a white flowery skirt with a sky blue blouse. Her hair is braided and pulled in a bun. My mother gives a small smile. "Sure I like it, rabbit. But don't call me Benny." With that, I scoop her up and she squeals. She's so small it's nothing. Really, we're about as different as it gets. She has my mother's platinum blonde hair and soft blue eyes, while I have curly brown hair, tan skin, and a figure that's big for an 18 year old, among 17 year olds at my school I'm the tallest. I put her down and we walk. My mother squeezes Anglia's hand, forgetting that she's twelve. Anglia doesn't mind, though. My father puts his hand on my shoulder as I make my way over to my age section. "Be strong for your mother and sister, no matter what happens, right son?" I nod. He's never really acknowledged me like that. Anglia thrusts herself into my arms. I pry her off gently. "Hey, Angie, you just go find your friends, okay? Then we'll go back home and have something good to eat when this is over." She nods and stifles a sob. I watch her figure get smaller and smaller.

No one in my group feels like talking and that's fine by me. It's not like I'm really friends with any of these kids anyway. MY eyes do wander over to the girl's section though. There I spot Bristol. So I guess it's fair to say we're boyfriend and girlfriend and all that, but we've known each other since forever. We were always the two loners, the odd ones out. So it's only natural that we came to like each other. She sees me catching her eye and she gives a sad smile. I think I should mention we share the same views of the Capital. Our district escort whose name I either can't or just don't feel like remembering comes on stage. While everyone else sort of rolls their eyes and some kids even stifle at laugh, most likely because of his acid green suit, I see Bristol giving him a stone cold glare. In her mind, he's completely evil. He finishes his speech on the Dark Days in a monotone, likely why they haven't moved him up to a more "honorable" district, like 2 for instance, where those kids must be obsessed with the idea of suicide or something, because they're all crawling over each other to get a chance to die. Pathetic suicidal lapdogs. Well, now's the moment we've all been waiting for. As he reaches his hand into the bowl you can hear a pin drop. From District 12. My stomach makes its way into its throat. _Not Anglia. Not Anglia. Oh, please not Anglia. _"Aston Maybach!" I literally let out a sigh of relief as the girl from the 15 year olds makes her way on stage. "And now for our gentleman," that monotonous forgotten-named escort announces. He plunges his hand in again and my stomach once again finds its way into my throat. I clench my fists so hard the knuckles are white. Somehow, I know what's happening the split second before he reads the name. It's my name. He just called my name. I stand, frozen in place. Then, just like that, I start to run. All the other kids make a pathway in front of me out of shock. I'm not running anywhere, but my legs have a mind of their own. As soon as it started, my running stops. I feel a pinch in my arm, then everything goes black.


	2. The Only Time I SmileD2

**Jetta Mason, District 2**

The dagger I threw hits the center of the target. Of course it did. I walk over to remove it and stare around the empty training center. I'm all alone. That happens sometimes. I'm always the first to come and the last to leave. I've got all the time in the world to train, considering I live in the community home. Today I'm alone because we have the day off because of the Reaping. Well, they're all idiots for not coming. I finger the dagger. It's my first choice of weapon. It's quick, practical, and gets the job done, just like me. No, it's not the most brutal of weapons that some of the boys use just because they're arrogant. We have plenty of boys like that in my group. I train with the seniors, meaning the 17 and 18 year olds who actually would have a chance of making it for a night in the Games. If their attitudes don't get the best of them. In short, District 2 is lacking on good victor material. That's why, even though I'm only 15, I'm going to volunteer.

My trainers don't know yet. Well, they should. Anyone could tell that I have more ambition than anyone else here. Clearly, I'm going to put it to use. It's not just that, though. I'm just sick of everything. I can't take another day here. I can't take another night of going to bed hungry. I can't take another beating from the headmaster at the home. And I can't stand to see my little sister's tear streaked face after another trainer screams at her. I'm going to get a better life for her if it kills me. Who knows? It just might. I twist the dagger into a dummy's stomach. _This is for my "father" who forced my little sister to watch him beat me. _I stab another dummy in the throat. _This is for my "mother" who left me to face that man when I was only 8._ Now I send the dagger straight through its heart and snap its neck. _This is for the trainers who couldn't care less whether we live or die._ I've brought down the last of dummies, when the sound of clapping echoes through the Center. I whip my head around. Brutus sits down on the bench next to me. He occasionally drops in on our training. I swear, the man is drawn to bloodshed like moths to a lamp. "Well, what are you doing here so early, sweetheart? Are you lost?" His words cause anger to boil in me. "Why don't you just go back to your perfect little house in your perfect little neighborhood? I think you're the one who's lost." My words have a sharp edge to them. Good. To my surprise, he laughs. His laugh is short and cold. "My dear, the only thing perfect around here would be your training score." He gives a dramatic pause. "That is, if you were to ever go to the Games." The man knows. I don't how he did it, but he knows. The words that come out of my mouth sound very immature. "How did you know?" I splutter. He laughs again. "Who else comes to train the morning of the Reaping?" Oh, I didn't know it was so obvious. "I've been watching you for a while now, you and your sister both." That's new. I can't exactly remember a creepy old man stalking either my sister or me. And why her? She's only 9, and really tiny besides. The only thing she shows promise in is throwing knives. And that's long range, which doesn't give you a whole lot of chance for survival. At least I'm adequate in hand-to-hand. She gets literally crushed every time. I can't contain my curiosity any longer. "Why would watch us? I know I can do hand-to-hand and long-range, but she can't." The creepy guy smiles again. "Let me tell you a secret."

I listen intently. It's not often you get a tip from a mentor. Even if he is insane. "It's all about the attitude." Huh? "Oh sure, you probably think the only thing that matters is how well you can handle a weapon. You see, there are some kids who think they can win easily, no effort required. Then there are those who put every ounce of their abilities into their training. You and your sister are some." I nod thoughtfully. The man is making some sense. "So you think I'm ready for the Games, then?" He stands up. I bristle with pride. He's just come in here to compliment me! I'm already on his good side. With his help, I'll be living in the Victor's Village in no time. I wait for the answer. "No, absolutely not." What? With that, he leaves the Center. What was that? He comes in here to tell me how great I am, and then proceeds to tell me I won't stand a chance. Well, he's wrong. Little does he know, but he's just added fuel to the flames. I pick up the dagger again. No use wasting any more time. I lose myself in the dagger's movement. I'm in control now.

I glance up at the clock on the wall. It's 1:55! I've almost missed the Reaping! I don't have time to change, so I inspect the outfit I'm wearing. I have on combat boots, green army pants, and a black tank top. So it's not the nicest outfit, but the gamblers aren't looking for nice. They're looking for strong. Besides, I look tough, like I'm ready for anything. I practically have to sprint to get to the square on time. Instantly, I become lost in the sea of heads, I'm just one of hundreds. Not for long. Our absolutely ridiculous escort, Flavia Ermine, gets on the stage. She rattles on about the Dark Days. I'm so nervous and tense I can hardly stand. Everyone around me looks presumably bored though. They know the routine. Some random kids name will get called and one of the 17 or 18 year olds will take their place. I guess they're in for a surprise. "Ladies first!" Flavia chirps. I don't even let her finish reading the name. "I volunteer!" My voice rings out, strong and clear. Flavia looks taken aback. The shocked 15 year olds around me part for me to get through. I can hear shouting from the 18 year olds as I make my way confidently onstage. "No, there must be some mistake!" A girl I train with named Jade shouts. I know for a fact Jade was supposed to volunteer. I guess she was just a little late. Too bad for her. Flavia straightens her elaborate hair pin. "Well, I'm sorry but this lovely young lady had already volunteered. I'm sorry." She makes a small pout at Jade with her lips, as if getting sent to fight to the death is really fun, and poor little Jade is missing out. I make my way next to the microphone. "What's your name, dear?" "Jetta Mason." Flavia nods and moves back to the boys' Reaping bowl. I make sure never to break eye contact with the camera in front of me as Lance Rhon volunteers. He volunteers like I did, not giving Flavia a chance to finish reading the name. Maybe after what happened he got paranoid. As Lance steps on stage, I realize how bad this could be for me. Lance is huge, and at 18, has three more years of training. But he doesn't have the attitude, unless you count his arrogance. We shake hands as Flavia introduces us as "your two District 2 tributes." We walk off the stage together. As we're making our way into the Justice building, Lance hisses in my ear through clenched teeth "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I stare back at him as innocently as possible. "Why winning of course," I answer. He huffs and heads into his own room. As the Peacekeepers direct me into my own room I realize that there is definitely going to be some tension in the Career pack this year.

I finger the velvet on the sofa. For some reason, it brings back a memory. _I'm staring at my mother. She is wearing my favorite dress, the one with the velvet collar and singing a lullaby to my sister, who was only a baby. I reached out to finger the collar. "Your singing is so pretty mommy." She gives me a soft smile. "Would you like to sing together?" I nod enthusiastically. Our voices join together, singing that beautiful lullaby that's been in the family for so long that I still remember it now._

_Fly high across the sky from here to kingdom come_

_Fall back down to where you're from_

_Don't you fret my dear; it'll all be over soon_

_I'll be waiting here for you._

_My mother stared at me for a long time after we finished singing. I had begun to get uncomfortable when she said "Jetta, you have the most wonderful voice." For some reason, she began to cry. I tried to comfort her, but I didn't know why she was crying. She left the next night._

Now the door burst open. I jump, but it's only my little sister. She runs over to me and buries her head in my shoulder. She's sobbing uncrontrollably. Someone must have run back to the home to tell her. By now she's old enough to know that lots of kids don't come back. I gently rub her back and tell her everything's okay. "Hey, everything's fine. As soon as I get back, we'll be living in a huge mansion with all the food we can eat. And you'll get to see me on television in a Parade. That sounds okay, right? See, I'm fine." Before I know it, I'm singing the song until it's time for her to go. She climbs off my lap. "Goodbye Jetta," she whispers.

"Goodbye, Clove."


	3. Taking Flight D10

**Micky Geddes, District 10**

The shadows in my room have gradually changed to light. I close my eyes and something inside me wishes for the shadows to return. It's too bright. The light is hurting my eyes. It should be dark. If it's dark inside me, why isn't it dark outside? It's been dark inside me for exactly one year now. That was when I lost my brother, Gavin. He was only 17. But the rest of the world doesn't care. He was just another one of the countless victims. It's too bright to go back to sleep, so I get out of bed. I know it's midmorning already. Everyone in my family is sleeping in, as we've taken to doing. I slip on clean pants, a crisp shirt and the only nice pair of shoes I own, Reaping clothes. I walk silently down the stairs and hear my mother's sighing as she sleeps. Sometimes she sleeps well into the afternoon now. She doesn't even know I'm here most of the time. It's during those times that I feel mad at both her and Gavin. Just because he's gone, doesn't mean I am too. So I decided to give her some satisfaction. She already thinks I'm gone, and with the amount of time my father spends at the beef processing plant, he might as well think I'm gone too. So that's why I am going. I'm going to volunteer.

I walk outside into the bright sunlight. Our house is perched on top of a grassy hill overlooking an entire valley. I can see little specks where all the cows are. I sit down in the muddy grass, not caring if my clothes get ruined. I sit like this, overlooking the valley and letting the memories come.

_The grass tickles my bare feet I fly across it. I spread my arms out wide, like I'd seen those huge eagles soaring over the valley. "Hey Gavin, look at me! I'm an eagle!" I shout. He catches up to me on his long legs."If you get to be an eagle, then I'm a hawk!" He cries and sprints across the grass. His hand touches the tree before mine. "Hey, no fair!" I pout. "You're 11 and I'm only 8." Gavin swoops in front of me, his arms spread out. "Or maybe hawks just fly faster than eagles."_

Why didn't run, Gavin? You saw that District 2 girl before she even saw you. You could have gotten away. But you just sat there, frozen. You could have flown away on your fast feet. But you didn't. I had to watch you scream in terror and then agony as the dagger found its way into your heart. I had to listen to your cannon boom. Maybe you did fly that day, Gavin. You flew away from me. I pick up a clump of grass and throw it. Another memory, this time less pleasant then my 8 year old one, creeps up.

_I'm swinging the bag with a loaf of hot bread. It's been over a month since we first pretended we were birds, but we've still kept playing that game. I'm determined to show Gavin that eagles can fly faster than hawks. Gavin smiles at me and takes a whiff of the loaf. "We're gonna eat well tonight, buddy!" He calls me buddy when he's in a good mood. We're walking toward the square and I'm beginning to think something's weird. Usually around the time of May, we take a different route home around the square. Maybe it's closed then. I don't tell Gavin though. Suddenly he yanks my hand back. "Oh no, I wasn't supposed to go this way! Please don't tell mom!" He didn't yank me back fast enough. I saw it. It was a huge screen in the middle of the square. A boy had sent a trident straight through a girl. The girl was crying and screaming. In seconds, so was I. "Why did he do that?" Why do they kill?" I screamed at him. "I don't know, I don't know!" He kept saying._

Why do they do that? Why do they kill? They're such innocent questions asked by a nine year old. But I still ask them to myself today. I now know just who is doing the killing. It's the Capital who really killed my brother. I still don't know why. I probably never will. Sometimes I stay awake at night thinking of the 68th Hunger Games. Gavin's Games. I don't think about him sometimes, though. Instead, I find myself thinking of the District 2 girl, the one who killed him. What was going through her mind when she did it? She didn't seem as sadistic as the rest of the Careers; she just did it quickly and got it over with. There was no teasing and taunting him. I can't help but wonder if Gavin had made it past that first night, would he have killed too? Would he have lost his mind and gone sadistic? That girl died later on. Her death was much slower. The girl from one cut her open so many times that when she finally slit the girl's throat, I couldn't even recognize her. That girl from 1 taunted her and even laughed. Gavin's killer never shed a tear or even cried out. I know I would've. But I guess that's the way Careers are. I never even knew that girl's name. She probably didn't know Gavin's either. I wonder, if she did, would she still have killed him? I think that when I go into my own Games, I'm going to learn everyone's name, so I'll never make a single kill. If I end up losing, which I know I will, then I'll get to see Gavin and ask him why he froze. I will be free, just like those eagles and hawks, with no depressed mother to take care of. If I win, which I won't, then I'll be able to afford that Capital medicine to make her better. Either way, I know that volunteering is the right choice.

Before I know it, it's time to go square. My mother isn't coming, of course. She's probably still in bed. Why would my father bother to wake her up? It would be much too painful. So we walk to the square alone. He keeps his hand on my shoulder the whole time. He's probably thinking I need his support, when in reality he is the one who needs my help to stand. He eventually loosens his grip and I walk over to the 15 year old boys section. The other boys acknowledge my being there with a few tense nods, but nothing further. They all pity me of course, but I've made it clear several times that I don't need pity. Our District 10 escort, Eulice Benedict gives his speech. I know he's been trying very hard for a promotion to a better district. Isn't that sick? He makes a living sending kids to the death, but all he can think about is a promotion. He starts with the girls. The name called is Hanna Livingston, and instantly the crowd is full of sobs. I know why. Hanna is in my grade and just about every girl in the grade is friends with her. Coincidentally, I like her too. She's the only one who knows what I've been through. She lost a brother to the Games to, when she was only 11. Whenever she sees me sitting alone, she doesn't bother me. Once, a few days after I got back to school, she bumped into me in the hallway. "Don't worry, it may not seem like it now, but it will get better." She whispered. She was right. It did, a little. But not for my parents. I would never want to be put in the Games with her, but that's how it is I guess. Maybe we can protect each other and see how long we last. Eulice calls the name of a boy, which I can't remember, but the boy is only 12. I know what I have to do.

"I volunteer as tribute!"


	4. I Promise D11

**Heather Bryony, District 11**

Amira curls up next to me. She's so small when she's asleep. I slip out of bed quietly, so as not to disturb her. I move over to the crudely-made bunk bed squeezed next to us and shake Bay awake. He moans in protest and rubs his eyes. He's only 10, so he's just started working in the orchards. He dresses himself in the denim overalls and work boots we all wear and follows me down for breakfast. That breakfast will be made by me, of course. Both my mother and my aunt, who is Bay's mother, passed away from a fever. It could have been cured if we just had the medicine, but we didn't. I've been the "woman of the family" since I was 10. So that means I make the breakfast. This time it's dense, but filling tesserae bread. My uncle and father sit down and eat hungrily with us. I sigh when I think of what this bread is costing me. I have my name in an extra time because, at 13, this is my second Reaping. I took tesserae, which means I'm allowed to take it for each member I provide for. That means my father, uncle, cousins Bay, Acacia, and Berkly as well as my sister Amira. I'm the only kid old enough to take tesserae. It accumulates every year, so my name is in 19 times. The odds aren't exactly in my favor. Everyone places their dishes on the sink; we'll all wash them later. Now we head to work. The sun is coming up over the clouds. Bay hops by my side. "We're gonna collect the most apples today, right?" How many times do I have to tell him that it isn't a contest? Still, we do collect more than the rest. Our methods are a little unusual. My father taught me an excellent way to get the apples down. He taught me how to throw knives. I just use very light rubber tipped ones that couldn't really hurt anyone, but I've also trained my aim well enough to avoid people. Bay stands beneath and let the fruit fall into his basket. That's how it goes. The older kids get the fruit down, the younger kids collect it, and the adults haul the fruit away to be packaged. The Peacekeepers don't really care how I get the fruit down, so long as I get a lot and I do. So everything works out. I send my knife whizzing into the tree and manage to get to pieces to fall down. I've practiced so hard and for so long that my knives never pierce the fruit. Bay smiles as his basket fills up. Suddenly, I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around and I'm eye-to-eye with my best friend Thresh. "Hey, don't sneak up on me like that!" I laugh. He smiles and shifts his bushel that's full of apples. "You know in the other districts they get Reaping day off?" He tells me. I sigh. Thresh is always saying something rebellious. I don't even mind the work that much, I tell him. He mumbles something and walks away. Well, never mind that, we get to take off work early to get ready. I take Bay's arm (never his hand, he told me) and lead him back home.

Once there, I put on a denim skirt which my father bought. He bought it in the same material that makes our overalls because it won't rip easily. I put on a crisp white blouse that's a little tight at the shoulder and slip into my dress shoes. They pinch and are too small as well because I wore the same outfit last year, but it's not like anyone cares. I twirl for a second because I love the way the skirt swishes. I don't notice Acacia and Amira behind me. Amira looks at me sadly. "I wish I could go wherever you're going. I want to dress up too." Acacia pouts and thrusts her thumb in her mouth defiantly. Amira is only 8 and Acacia is only 5, how could they possibly know where I'm going. They just see that I get to dress up and they don't. I give them both a hug. "Trust me; you guys don't want to go where I'm going. It's not fun at all, and it's very short too. I'll be back home before you know it." I leave the room and head down the room and head downstairs. As I'm about to put my hand on the door, Bay stops me. His face looks very worried. "Can I talk to you for a little?" He says the words quickly, as if he was waiting a long time to get them out. Our fathers will be at work until it's time for them to go to the square and the girls are upstairs. I think the boys are in the other room playing some sort of board game, so I nod. "I know where you're going, Heather. Some kids at school told me." He stares at the floor. I think I learned about the Games around his age as well, so I know how he feels. I give his hand a squeeze and he doesn't even object. "I won't get picked, Bay." He made me promise, so I did. I gave him a small wave and a reassuring smile as I walk out. He'll be okay and so will I. I just have to keep calm. The closer I get to the square, the more kids I see. Eventually, we're all so packed there's hardly any elbow room. I watch Mona Elliot walk onstage, dressed in magenta and acid green. It's really awful-looking and I feel just a little bit of pity for her. I look over to the boy's section and Thresh and I make eye contact for just a second. He looks at Mona's outfit and rolls his eyes. I crack a smile. Her speech is finished, so she makes her way to the bowl. I clasp my hands in front of my skirt. She raises the paper and slowly unfolds it. My hands are so sweaty they can't even stay clasped. "Heather Bryony!"

That's my name. That's my name. I focus on the stage. _Just focus on the stage. Stay strong. The whole country is watching you. Stay strong for your family. _I tell myself. So I manage to get onstage and say my name with some conviction. As Mona calls for a boy's name, my legs begin to buckle. I can't bear to look out at the crowd. "Rowan Anderson!" I don't know the name, but what I do know is that Rowan is huge. He's probably 18 and when he walks up his face shows no emotion. When we shake hands my own hand can fit in his palm. His hands are worn and leathery, but his handshake is surprisingly gentle. He gives me a look of sadness that I don't think the cameras could capture. Mona leads us offstage and into the Justice building. Rowan goes quietly into his own room, but as soon as the Peacekeepers shut the door to my room I'm in a chair sobbing. Thresh always quiet, slips through the door. He doesn't say anything. He just stares at the ground. "You know, Heather, if it were possible, I would've volunteered for you." He whispers. I turn to him. "I'm so sorry I couldn't but I would've." He says as if to prove himself to me. As a Peacekeeper comes in to tell him to go, he pulls me into a hug. We've never hugged before or even held hands. I never thought of him as that type of friend. But somehow, he's gotten me to stop crying. As we hug, he slips something into my hand. "I promise I'll never forget you" he speaks so softly only I can hear him. Then, as suddenly as he came, he's gone.

I open my hand. He gave me a bracelet made of colored strands of grass. It looks homemade. My father and uncle come into the room next. My father sits on the couch and sobs the whole time. I haven't seen him sob since my mother's death. My uncle sits next to him and tries to offer him some comfort. I find myself next to him as well. The words come out of me before I know they're there. "I'm going to win. I'm going to win for us and for all the kids. We'll have a better life. Amira and the others will never have to sign up for tesserae, so this will never repeat itself." I sound so much more reassuring then I feel, but he looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes full of pride. "That's my girl." He says. "That's my girl." He pulls me into an embrace and we stay like that until he has to go.


	5. Train Rides and Obstacles D6

**Bentley Tucker D6, Train Rides**

I flip over to my side and stare at the sun coming through the window. I get up to look. We're moving. And fast. It hits me suddenly. I guess the sedative made me woozier then I thought. I'm on the train that's taking me to certain death and I didn't even have time to say goodbye. Now Anglia's last memory will be of me running like a coward. I sit down on my bed. So it's settled then. I'm going to win these Games to prove to her that I don't run from my fears. I'll get some tough allies and we'll take down those Careers. I'll recruit some kids who are willing to put in a little rebellion. These Games are my ultimate chance. Then, I guess I'll have to take the rest of them down too. Well, I'll get there when I get there. Anything to get back to Anglia. She needs me. I get out of my room. If I'm going to win, I'm going to have to talk to my mentors about my strategy. I'll need all the tips I can get. So I make my way to the main compartment. I open the door, determined to do so with a confident look on my face. My heart sinks when I see who sits at the table. There is no way I can win now.

My "mentors" have yellowish skin and cheekbones that jut out. I think the man is more far gone as he looks older. The female looks like she's just started on morphine, but at the rate she's going, she'll end up just like him. My district partner may be 15, but she's so skinny she looks to be 12. None of them says a word. They're all just staring out the window with blank looks on their faces! I can't take this anymore. How can I possibly win if these two don't help me? For God's sake, they can't even save themselves. "That's enough!" I scream. That gets their attention. I sit down heavily in a seat. "So if my partner and I are gonna survive the first minute, someone's got to come up with a strategy." I'm greeted with more silence and shocked stares. Finally, someone speaks. It's the small girl. "I have a name, you know." I turn around, a little surprised by this. She clears her throat. "I'm not just a "partner", my name is Aston." I nod. Okay, so at least Aston talks. The female "morphling" as we call the addicts looks at me with her hollow eyes. "Just run." She says this in a rusty-sounding voice, as if she hasn't used it in a long time. When she and the man leave, maybe to get some more of their drug or something, I sit back and think about her words. Maybe it's not such bad advice. She could have been telling me to not do anything stupid, like run straight to the Cornucopia or anything. I look over to Aston. "So what can you do?" She looks confused at this question. Honestly, how out of it is she? This is the Hunger Games! I'll need all the help I can get. Aston looks at me with wide eyes, kind of like a rabbits eyes just before it becomes dinner. "I know some things about medicine." It clicks into place. Aston's mother owns the small apothecary where she and Aston make cheap herbal medicines from the few plants we have surrounding District 6. Of course, Aston will know some things about medicinal plants. That's really good for our alliance. "Okay, Aston I'm pretty good at sprinting." I almost detect a faint smile on her lips. Does she remember my Reaping? Of course she does. Who could forget? "I figure if each of us learns some of the basics of a weapon we'd make a pretty good alliance." Aston looks thoughtful for a minute. "It's a deal." So I've got one ally. "We'll start adding on to the alliance right when training starts. Let's pick up the kids from outer districts with useful skills but who don't really think they can win, right?" She bobs her head up and down. "That sounds like a plan." "Hey, how long was I out for anyway?" I ask her. "You were out for the first hour of the train ride. We're going to have dinner soon." Good, I'm starving. We sit on the train for a while, watching the blurred scenery outside the window. Aston doesn't really talk much, does she? Oh well, that means we'll be able to hide from those Careers better. Suddenly, the door is whisked open and our escort walks in followed my some men in uniforms bearing a cart filled with food. Aston gasps and I can't blame her. There is more food on this cart then I've ever seen in my life. A steaming bowl of golden soup is set in front of me and I dig in. It's thick and it warms me from the inside out. The escort sits down and stares at Aston and me with a disgusted look on his face. I make a point to slurp my soup even louder. When I'm finished, a plate with roast beef cut in thin slices surrounded by a fluffy white mound is placed down for me. I find out after a few bites that the mound is potatoes. When the last of the dishes is cleared, the escort looks over at us. "So have you come up with a strategy? Do you have any idea what angle you may want to play in the interview?" This guy must really think ahead or something. Since Aston has gone mute again, I say "we've decided to have an alliance. We'll pick up some other kids from the outer districts with useful skills but not a lot of confidence. If they don't have the confidence, no one gets double-crossed." I don't think it's a good idea to mention that I'll be the only double-crosser. The escort nods just as the male morphling walks in. "They're replaying the Reapings now, Orpheus; I thought you and the tributes would want to know." So his name is Orpheus. The names people give their children in the Capital are so ridiculous. Aston and I follow Orpheus into a small compartment with couches and a television set.

They've just started and Aston and I silently begin to scout for potential allies. Obviously we don't pay too much attention to the kids from 1 and 2. Honestly, "kids" is not the right word to describe them. They've probably got anywhere from 50 to 100 pounds on me. Except the girl from 2. She's actually pretty small. I guess she just couldn't wait for her death sentence. I like the tributes from 3. They're both my age and they look relatively strong as they make their way onstage. As 4 comes on, I make a mental note to remember that it's still a Career district, albeit not quite as strong as 1 or 2. It's fairly obvious that they are Careers. The boy from 5 is just 12 and even though the girl is probably 16 she breaks down and sobs. How pathetic. I feel an instant pang of sadness. I almost look away at my Reaping. Aston actually looks pretty strong, but I just ran away. Well, what's done is done. I can't go back now. The girl from 7 is only 12 too. I can't help but think of Anglia. Would she want me to protect this girl? But I can't. She would slow us down. The kids from 8 are always weak. In an industry like textiles I guess I would expect them to be. So that's out of the question. I don't know much about the kids from 9. The boy from 10 volunteered. Why? No one ever volunteers from the outer districts. The boy from 11 is pretty big, especially compared to his underfed-looking partner. She's a young tribute as well. The pair from 12 are both 14 year olds and probably classmates. That's really too bad. I'm very glad I didn't get Reaped with a classmate. If that's something to be glad about. I feel the anger inside starting to rise into my chest so I leave the room. Maybe what I need is just some time to be alone.


	6. Let the Fun Begin D2

**Train Rides and Preparation**

Lance hasn't said one word to me the whole train ride. Well, that's fine by me. It will be all the more easy to finish him off. Now that I think about it, Brutus hasn't said much either. We haven't even started watching the Reaping yet so he'll get to talking then. Enobaria, my other mentor flips the television on. Lance sits back on the couch. Oh, that annoys me to no end. He probably thinks he's so great at everything that he doesn't even need to pay attention to his competition. I hope Brutus is taking note of this behavior. There's no doubt in my mind. As soon as we get to the Capital I'll ask to be trained separately. Lance won't have that kind of ambition. I make sure to look alert as the first Reaping comes on the screen. Okay, the pair from 1 are typical Careers. The girl, Amethyst (what an awful name) has a sickly sweet personality that I'm sure is a mask for a lethal killer. Her partner is almost as big as Lance. His name is Mercury. Honestly, I just can't take kids who have names like that seriously. But I'll have to. They look like competition. I completely ignore District 3, like I'm sure everyone else in the Capital is doing. Now I can see the final addition to my alliance. The two from 4, Salmon and Lucius are both pretty big. They have more years of training then I do, like everyone else in my alliance. As the other Reaping play out, an idea starts to form in my mind. Why do I need this alliance anyway? I can sneak out after the first night, this way my safety is guaranteed in the Bloodbath. Those skinny district kids can still sneak up on you if you aren't alert enough. If I sneak away I won't have to worry about anyone killing me in my sleep. Yes, they'll hunt me down, but if I'm alert and awake at least I'm sure I could take them. I relax a little. So it looks like Lance and I won't be teaming up after all. Before the camera has even gotten to District 10, Lance makes a big show about leaving to go to his sleeping compartment. I have half a mind to go to my own, but I need to show my mentors that I'm sizing up the competition, no matter how starving and pathetic. Apparently Enobaria has other plans and leaves to some other compartment. It's just Brutus and I. Okay, the girl from 10 looks like she's having a breakdown. That's typical. A slip is being read for the boys….."I volunteer!" All right, that's not typical. The camera zooms in on the boy. He looks just my age, with sandy hair and big brown eyes. He's so confident. Since when have outer District kids been confident? Suddenly, I feel something for the boy. It's admiration. He took the place of a small boy who wouldn't stand a chance, but he won't live himself. Wait a minute. This just isn't right. In an instant, I try to stifle any sympathy I might have. He is competition and if he is brave enough to volunteer, he's definitely trouble. Any trouble in that arena could cost me my life. I could never see Clove again and make a better life for her. So, it looks like I'll personally be killing this boy.

I head over to my compartment when the last of the Reapings has played. I curl under the soft sheets. For some reason, I find myself wishing my little sister was here too. The bed is definitely a lot softer than the ones at home. What's she thinking now? Is she crying herself to sleep? If there's one thing I know about her, it's that she hardly ever cries. She does it in her sleep when she thinks no one's listening. But I am. So sometimes I go over to her and sing our little song softly. Even though it doesn't make any sense, I find myself humming the song softly. My voice gets louder and louder. It's almost as if increasing my volume will let her hear me. Who knows? She might be singing the song quietly to herself. Maybe we're even singing a duet. When I finish the song, I start over again. I do this over and over again until I fall asleep with the words still echoing.

_Run, run, run and hide_

_Somewhere no one else can find_

_Tall trees bend and lean pointing where to go_

_Where you will still be all alone_

It hits me then. I really am alone. Who's going to stand by me here?

I wanted to stay in bed for as long as possible, but the smells of breakfast lured me away. I go into the compartment and put some eggs on my plate. Lance sits at the table with a plate piled with just about every food item that was on the table. As I sit down, Brutus and Enobaria walk in. Brutus takes one look at the heaping pile that is Lance's breakfast. "If you eat like that, how will you possibly survive with nothing in that arena?" To my disgust, Lance actually smirks. "Brutus, I'm going to have sponsors lining up to feed me. Food isn't a problem. Let's focus on the bigger issues, like the fact my partner and I haven't even begun to talk strategy yet." Oh that is just like something Lance would say. How could I forget the haughty boy who boasted how he could throw a spear from 15 yards back at the Training Center? Brutus and I exchange a knowing glance. However, Lance doesn't get to talk about whatever strategy the idiot has come up with. Our escort Flavia begins to get very excited as she looks out the window. In an instant, I can see why. Outside the window has to be the brightest thing I've ever seen. We've arrived at the Capital. Everywhere I look there are colors more blinding then the last. The colors look like the candy I saw in a shop window back home. Flavia's ridiculous outfit looks right at home here. In fact, it almost looks conservative. The train pulls to a stop. Flavia rushes out excitedly. Lance gets out with his chin jutted out. Brutus and Enobaria follow. I stop for a second to take a breath. I'm really here. There's no turning back now. I step down from the train and onto the platform in front of the enormous training center. Instantly I'm blinded by flashes. Questions come shooting from every direction. "Jetta, what was going through your mind when you volunteered?" "Jetta, can you give us a hint on what your strategy will be?" "Jetta, are you prepared for this year's Games?" I pause again to take a breath. Brutus is watching me out of the corner of his eye. Both he and I know that if I'm getting any sponsors, now would be the time to start. I pull my shoulders back just a little bit and try to make eye contact with a camera. "If I wasn't prepared for the Games, I would have never volunteered in the first place." With that, I stride into the building. But as I reach the top of the steps, I have a tiny flicker of doubt. Am I prepared? I push that away. I can't afford to think like this.

I feel as if every inch of my skin has been ripped off. My newly hairless arms and legs are tingling. One of the ridiculous members of my prep team steps back. I don't have a strip of clothing on! And yet he's looking at me as if I were a particularly interesting meal. I resist the urge to look disgusted. After my prep team deems me ready to face Lilia, my head stylist I throw on the thin paper robe I've been given. It's not much better, but if there's one thing I can't stand it's feeling vulnerable. Lilia strides into the door. She's wearing a black dress with edges that look razor sharp. Her heavy black eyeliner actually looks really intimidating. I wonder if she'll do something similar for me. She removes a covered dress from a hanger and takes off its slip. All hope of looking intimidating vanishes. The dress is shimmery and made to have a stone pattern on it. I'm wearing simple marble-looking slippers with it. Lilia looks surprisingly proud at the pathetic ensemble. "You look so gorgeous." She gushes. "Your hair looks so dark it's almost black. I've never seen natural hair like this." Only she could get so excited about hair. "We've dressed your partner to look like a quarry worker. We'll have a tool in his hand and everything." I resist the urge to scream. I do get some consolation when I find that we're wearing laurel leaves to symbolize victory. It doesn't make sense with the costumes, but it's something to hang onto. I walk toward the large room where we'll be waiting for our chariot to be let out. It looks like right now I'm going to be meeting my competition face-to-face. I let a smile creep onto my lips. Let the real fun begin.


	7. Who will you Trust? D10

**Parade: Micky Geddes D10**

I have to pause before I exit my private dressing room. I'm in the most ridiculous outfit I've ever seen. I have on brown trousers that only come up to my knee and long white socks that are tucked under them. I have on a dark green shirt with chords tying it at the chest and a sheep-like vest on top. My shoes have buckles on them and I have to carry a shepherd's staff. For some reason, I find myself not wanting to show Hanna my outfit. It's as if I don't carry what the entire country thinks of me, but I'm nervous to see Hanna's face. I exit into the hallway. Will she laugh? No, we're both too far-gone to laugh. I can't even remember the last time I really truly laughed. As I go into the elevator with my mentors and escort as well as Hanna, I do have one consolation. She looks just as bad as I do. Her outfit is just like mine but with a wide brown skirt and two braids that have been turned up. No one says a word in the elevator. For some reason, our stylists exchange proud looks. It makes me sick to my stomach. The elevator reaches the chariot room where we'll have some final preparations. Our mentors and escort go off to talk to some others, no doubt important for getting sponsors. As if. As soon as Hanna sees them go, she turns to fix my vest. Her fingers brush my shoulder for a split second and she gives me a sad understanding smile. "It's awful, isn't it," she whispers. I nod tensely. Suddenly, I find myself wanting to be allies with her. We could survive longer than we could apart. It's not like either of us has a better plan. "Hanna, we could be allies right?" Hanna nods without a moment's hesitation. "Let's keep our eyes out for anyone we might want to team up with." "That's exactly what I was thinking." I add. So I begin to glance around. These are the kids who in 4 days I'll be fighting for my life against. These are the kids who have been thrown into this with me and will stop at nothing to get back out. Each one has their own reason, but really we're all the same in that sense. Even though it's completely unnecessary, I find myself looking over at the Career districts. I can't help it. There just so….noticeable. Obviously the tributes from 1 have the most spotlights. The girl is wearing a dress literally made out of shimmering pieces of glass that look like gems. Her partner's jacket, which can barely fit on his huge shoulders, is just like it. They have crowns on their heads encrusted with, of course, dozens of jewels. For some reason, I can't seem to take my eyes off the girl from 2 though. It's not necessarily her costume, but the fact that she is a good foot shorter than the rest of the Careers. She looks to be my age, even b shorter maybe. Of course she still has the facial expression of a Career. She's surveying us as if deciding who will b e the first to go. Other than her, not many tributes stand out. There's a small kid from 5 and another from 7. The girl from 11 looks like she might be young, but her stylist must be a genius. She looks much older from a distance wearing a short, form-fitting dress made out of what looks like grass. She has on a mask of makeup that doesn't seem so noticeable at all from just a few steps back and a wreath of vines encircles her head. Her partner is huge and muscular, as evidenced by his stylist's decision not to have him with a shirt. I look over to Hanna.

"How about the two from 11?" She looks them up and down. "The boy looks huge. He probably wouldn't want us. Who knows though? Maybe he won't really be good at much. Still, I don't trust him." I nod. She's probably right. "I do think the girl could be a possibility. Since she's younger she'll think we're the ones who have the upper hand and she won't try anything funny. At least that's what I think." She hastily adds. Hanna seems to be a pretty good judge of character. I've never really been. It occurs to me that I should ask Hanna what she's good at. I mean, we're going to be fighting to the death together. "So Hanna, do you have any skills that might be useful in the arena?" Oh great, that came out wrong. I made it sound like I didn't think she would! She doesn't seem to notice though. She just looks at the ground. "Not really," she mutters. I'm feeling a pang of pity for her when a thought suddenly occurs to me. "Hanna, I've seen you with a whip before. You father drives cattle sometimes, right?" She nods. "So I bet if you just got your hands on some spiked whip, you'd be pretty hard to take down. Me, on the other hand, I've got nothing." She whips her head around. "Mickey, don't say that! You won the sprints at our school 3 years in a row! You'll at least be able to get away!" Why would she say something like that? We're both so absorbed in this exchange that we don't even notice when the first chariot leaves. Our stylists rush over and make adjustments. As our chariot prepares to leave, Hanna looks over to me. "Don't underestimate yourself, Mickey." She whispers. The chariot pulls away and we're greeted by screaming crowds. Hanna hesitantly begins to wave. So what if we look ridiculous? Sponsors are lifelines. If I get sponsors somehow, what if I make it home? I could afford the medicine to make my mother better. I find myself beginning to raise my arm. Slowly but surely I begin to wave. The crowds chant our names. Are my parents watching? They'll have to, won't they? I remember my father coming into the room I was in at the Justice building and him sobbing. "Why, why?" That was all he said the entire time. He's lost both children to the Games now. Well, he wouldn't have known, but he lost me a long time ago. What is going through his mind right now? Is he still sobbing? Or has he become the hardened shell that my mother has? When our chariots come to a stop and the cameras zoom in on President Snow, I feel Hanna's fingers around mine. I look down at them and so does she. "Micky?" She whispers so softly only I can hear. "Yeah?" "Will you promise me you'll try to win?" Will you promise for me?" I nod. "I promise. But we're going to stick together." She gives me a small smile. "Yes, until the end." I'm suddenly aware of the girl from 11 looking at us. She pulls her eyes quickly away.

I focus on the President. He has just finished his speech and the chariots pull away. We're brought to another large room beneath the training center and Hanna and I hop off quickly. Once again I meet the 11 girl's eyes. And once again, she manages to look away. What does she want? Hanna tugs at my hand and leads me to an elevator. They stylist chat happily while we wait for it. "The idea of you both waving was really good. The audience loves when two tributes do the same thing together. And it shows you feel comfortable with the audience." Our escort, Eulice pipes up. We step into the elevator. It's just our luck because we're riding up with the brutal Careers from 2. No one says a word until they get to their floor. They leave the elevator, but before the doors close the small girl looks at me. "Don't trust her." She says and walks away as if nothing happened. As soon as the doors close, my mentor Jamison turns to me. "What was that?" He questions. I'm just as confused as he is. "I have no idea." I say. Could that girl have been referring to herself in the third person? I knew District 2 kids tend to be mentally unstable, but that seems very weird. Well, if she was, she doesn't need to tell me twice. There is no way I could ever trust a Career.


	8. Top of the List D11

**Training, Day 1: Heather Bryony**

**** I stir in bed. Well, I haven't gotten any sleep and I'm not about to now. I slip out of bed and in to a soft robe that's been put out for me. In fact, just about anything I could ever want is given to me here. There's a rotating closet filled with clothes my stylist have chosen just for me and food appears at the push of a button. My bedroom alone is probably the size of our house. I find myself wishing more than anything that my family could be here to share these things with me. At least then our goodbyes wouldn't be hastened by Peacekeepers and a waiting train. I rack my brain to find out what Amira's last memory of me could have been. It hits me. I was tucking the covers around her and she asked me if we could make chains out of the dandelion's that grew behind our house. I told her yes, not remembering the Reaping was the next day. I work to hold back a sob. Who will make dandelion chains with her now? I shrug my arms into the robes sleeves and make my way down the hall. My bare feet barely make a sound on the cold floor. When I get to the main room, I see Chaff and Seeder, my mentors watching some replays of the Reapings. Seeder sees me and gives me a small smile. "Couldn't sleep?" I nod. She pats the spot on the couch next to her. I feel myself desperately wanting to sit with her and be in the presence of someone who seems so motherly. So I go over next to her and bring my feet up to my chest. Chaff looks over to me. "You've got training today, sweetheart." For some reason I am suddenly irritated with his nickname for me. It's not like I could ever win, but it would be nice if people could just take me seriously. "Don't call me that." I snap at him. The words come out before I even know that they're there. He turns to me. "Oh, so you're not such a little kid then. My apologies, ma'am." He spits the last word out with dripping sarcasm and leaves the room. Seeder looks over at me. "You know, it's hard to believe, but I know what you're going through. It's very hard, for anyone. And he went through this too." I nod and instantly regret my words. We sit in silence and watch the Reapings for a while longer before Rowan, my partner comes in for breakfast and the Capital escort Mona joins us. Rowan helps himself to a mound of sausage and eggs. I finger my plate for a while. Seeder looks over at me. "You should eat something. You could use some energy." Mona looks over. "You're skinny as a stick!" So I put some fluffy white rolls on my plate and pour myself a cup of hot brown liquid. Mona informs me that it's something called hot chocolate. I don't care what it is; I could drink it by the bucketful. I pour myself another cup and stare out the window sipping it until I have to get my training clothes on. I walk back to my bedroom where they're laid out. The training outfit has remained virtually unchanged in all the years the Games have existed. It's some basic black pants and a tight-fitting black shirt with the district number on it. The boots are considerably lighter than my working boots. Good. I'll be able to run and climb much faster. I go into my enormous bathroom and plait my hair. The braid reaches halfway down my back from all the years I haven't cut it. I stare back at the girl in the mirror. I have my hair plaited like it's any other day at work. This calms me and I walk out. I am about to meet the tributes.

The space is absolutely gigantic. Rowan and I are among the first to arrive, which makes the space seem even larger. To our right stand the two from 3. They're definitely older than me but they both look scared. _They might not be too hard to take down. _What was that? Since when have I ever considered myself able to kill? After all, there's just no way I can win. _But maybe I can. I can hide, climb, run fast and I know a lot about plants, being from 11. _ _And no one could expect my lethal aim with knives. _Now that I'm here, I guess my aim has gone from me to consider it to be on-target, to me considering it to "lethal." That thought scares me so much that I'm barely able to focus on the speech the head trainer is giving. We're dismissed to go about the space now. Obviously, the tributes from Career districts head to the weapons area, so I decide it might not be best to go there right now. Maybe I should get to learn a thing or two about medicinal plants since I already know quite a bunch, but I don't know what kind of exotic plants could be in the arena. The trainer seems nice enough and he's pleased I've come over. He has me in a discussion about how to tell member of the Sagittarian family apart from others when I'm joined by the two from 6. They're both quite and they listen intently. I figure they must be okay, since they didn't head straight for the weapons stations, but I watch them for a little more. They are both focused but the boy actually whispers something into the girl's ear that makes her laugh. I wish I was with someone who could make me laugh. I'm pretty sure Rowan is off learning how to shoot a crossbow. The trainer then tells me to help them sort plants into the three piles, poisonous, edible or medicinal. They're both older than me, like just about everyone, but being from 6 I think they know nothing about plants. I silently help them for a while, to afraid to really speak. They actually are picking up fast. The girl, in fact, really does know quite a lot. I make a mental note not to underestimate anyone again. When we finish, the boy looks at me. "You're a really smart kid. You know you're stuff." He grins at me, as if trying to get me to smile. "I'm Ben, and this is Aston." He gestures to his partner and offers me his hand. I take it shyly. I want so badly to ask them if we could have an alliance, but the words won't come and before I know it they've moved on.

I decide to move to the climbing course next. There are ropes that snake up to the ceiling. The pair from 5 are trying their luck at it, but they can't seem to get further than 10 feet. It looks hard, but I take a breath and tell myself I can make it up. That always helped back home. It works here too. I grip my hands on the rope and lose myself in the feeling of climbing. The reason I love climbing so much is that you have to focus on whatever you're climbing and nothing else. You can't think of how your little sister is at home with nothing to eat, or your cousins are all crying because they can't sleep without some food. I'm at the top of the course, but only after a little bit of struggle. It isn't easy. The boy from 3 who is with Ben and Aston as well as his own partner looks up at me as if to say _how did she get there?_ I give him a small smile and hop down. I think it's about time I threw some knives. The trainer there seems surprised that I already know about all the technique and he has me working with moving targets in a matter of minutes. There are so many blades here. There are short and stout ones, long curved ones, and even ones that look almost dainty. I take a handful of these and begin to carefully flick them at the targets. The knives meet each one with a reassuring thump. When I finish, a score flashing above me reads that I hit 10 out of 12 in lethal areas and the other 2 landed on the target nonetheless. I find a small smile creeping up on my face. I have so much control right now. The knives really do give me power. Then, I see a Career looking at me. She is giving me a stone cold glare. It's a look that clearly shows her hate of me. It's a look that means I've made it to the top of her kills list.


	9. Odds are Changing

**Training Day 2: Ben Tucker**

By now Aston and I have scoped out a few potential allies. We first met the pair from 3 at the snares station. They're both very good at creating elaborate snares. The girl, Pixel, taught me to make an excellent one that would leave my enemy hanging by a tree limb. Aston and I are working on that one right now when a spark of electricity shoots up. I snap my head around and see Alef, the boy grinning. He turns to me. "If anyone steps on that, they'll be electrocuted." All right, that's pretty impressive. "Could it kill someone?" I ask. He stares at it for a minute. "Maybe. I know it would knock them unconscious, so they'd be good as dead anyway." He shrugs. We've attracted a lot of attention from the others by now, including some unwanted attention from the Careers. Everyone knows attention from the Careers means that the odds are not going to be in your favor. I look over at Alef. "It might be a good idea to keep your skills on the down low from now on." I whisper. He nods, his face flushed with shame. "I know. That was really stupid of me. I don't know why I showed off like that. They'll be hunting me down for sure." Aston and Pixel both give him looks of pity and we decide to move to another station to learn how to make fires. I do know why Alef showed off, though. Sometimes you just have such an overwhelming urge to feel like you have power and that you're good at something, that you don't even stop to think. It sounds like Career-type arrogance, but everyone's had it at some point and time. Oftentimes, in the arena, where it's most fatal. I've seen it many times. As we make some fires I catch Heather from 11's eye. Why is she always doing that? She's always looking at the other tributes. Well, if she wants me to feel bad, it's working.

Aston, Alef, Pixel and I have reached an agreement not to let her into our alliance. Oh yes, she has some very useful skills. She knows about plants, she climbs very well and she runs fast. She also happens to have a lethal aim with knives which seems like she's been practicing forever. Where could she possibly have practiced? The point is, she's simply too good. She would eventually realize that she has the upper hand and by then it would be too late for us. I have to stop pretending she's Anglia and I have to protect her. I don't know what she's thinking, but she doesn't need my protection. She's not an innocent little kid. Who knows? She could become a ruthless killer in a matter of time. I look over at Aston, struggling to get a spark out of her matches. "How about we learn some basics for weapons? We need something to defend ourselves." The others sigh. We've been putting this off for a while. Weapons stations are the territory of Careers, except for the rare outer district kid who happens to be strangely exceptional with one they've used in their district. Sometimes I see the 7s with axes or the 9s with scythes. Most of those tributes are too weak though, so it will be just us and those hulking monsters. We slowly get up and move. It had to get done at some point. A trainer walks over immediately. "So, which weapons will you be interested in?" "He asks. "Umm, how about throwing knives?" Pixel shrugs. "They're probably the lightest and easiest to get anyway." Pixel's right. The Cornucopia is always littered with knives; it's the bigger weapons that are harder to get. The trainer launches into a lesson on how to throw one, why there's so much thought process involved and how it's got to be completely controlled. By the time he's done, I've already regretted my decision. How has little Heather managed to do this? It soon becomes apparent that none of us are even somewhat adequate with throwing them. We've never even hit a target; the hilts of our knives just hit it and clatter off. After nearly an hour of this, it's time we try something new. So we try spears. It's the next best thing. "It's still long distance, so no hand-to hand." I tell the others. We're trying very hard to avoid any hand-to-hand. I can barely even hold the spear up without my hand slipping. The only one who can do this is Pixel. In fact, within a matter of minutes she's hit a target. It's not in a lethal area, but we'll take it. If she really did excel at it, she would simply become too dangerous to have around. But she's adequate, so that's enough. She sets off with another trainer to practice some more while the rest of us are left with a very daunting rack of weapons to choose from.

We try crossbow, to no avail. They're pretty heavy and the arrows seem to land nowhere near the target. I hear a harsh laugh behind me and I jerk my head around. It's the boy from 1, who throws spears. I've seen him practice. He has yet to miss. He doesn't say anything though and I decide to move on. After some pathetic attempts with a crossbow, Alef throws his hands up "I'll just use the wiring as my weapon. I'm going to learn some survival or something." Aston looks at me as he walks away. "Now what?" She questions. "They've both got a weapon by now and we haven't!" I watch Alef for a little while. "Actually, Aston, I think you've got one." A smile creeps up onto my lips. "What?" She shakes my shoulder. "What's my weapon?" I turn back. "Poison." "What?" "Aston, you've spent your whole life around plants, you're bound to know which ones are poisonous." She nods slowly; my idea has begun to take root. "I can find a way to sneak some in other's food or something. I'm going back to the plants station!" She races off. Know that I think about it that was a really stupid thing to do. Now everyone has a weapon except for me. Just then, something catches my eye. It's a bow, with curved edges, poised for attack. A sheath of silver arrows sits next to it. Staring at that bow, a memory surfaces.

_"We're starting on a new unit today class! The room full of 11 year olds burst with talking from all sides. "Quiet, all of you!" The physical education instructor yells. The room is silent. We're going to learn archery." Minutes later, after a quick how-to lesson, I pick up my own tiny bow. I string the rubber-tipped arrow, position my finger and shoot. The arrow lands right at the top of the target. It wasn't a bulls-eye, but I'm the only kid in the class who manages to hit the target. And soon, I've become the only one to hit dead center. The next class, I want nothing more than to go back to the target range, but we can't. We're starting wrestling. The bows lay in a back closet, untouched for the rest of my time at school._

I stare at the bow. I figure, if I could hit a bulls-eye when I was 11, why not now? The trainer only needs to give me a quick lesson; I actually remember a surprising amount from that class. I string the arrow and just like before, my arrow lands just above center. But also just like before, I'm soon hitting the bulls-eye. The feeling is really like nothing else. I'm in complete control. After I hit 2 bulls-eyes in a row, I decide to go somewhere else. There's no need for unwanted attention. So I thank the trainer and see how the other members of my alliance are doing. Pixel has finally hit a lethal area with one of her spears. "It's not like anyone with the intention of murdering me would ever be that still though." She motions to the stationary target. Aston assures me that now, not only will she know what plants are good for food and medicine, but now she knows how to help us take down the competition. Alef has learned some more survival skill, as he's unwilling to show off more. Now we have someone who can heal wounds, 3 people who are competent with weapons, one who knows about poisons, and all of us can ensnare small animals for food. The odds were never really meant to be in our favor, bit they have been shaping up quite a bit.

That night, I lie in bed. The outside is bright from all of the Capital's lights. Has Anglia fallen asleep by now? My thoughts wander to her until I fall asleep myself. The next time I see her, she's running for her life.

_Anglia's long hair streams behind her and her feet slap through puddles as she sprints away. What is he running from? The streets of the district are empty. Just then, I am there. She runs toward me, sobbing. But she can't get any closer. It's as if there's a wall between us. "Bentley, please!" She shouts. "Benny, help me!" I reach my arms out, but I can't get further. Suddenly, a dagger whizzes from behind and hits her in the back. She curls up on the street, which is slowly turning red. Finally, the wall is gone. I rush over to her. Tears are streaming down her face. "Why didn't you help me?" She sobs, over and over again._

I wake up in a cold sweat.as Anglia faleH Hi=origfjeriv'jrfv


	10. Scores and Secrets

**Training Scores: Jetta's POV**

I scoop up the scrambled eggs on my plate and stare out the window. It's so early that I'm the only one awake. In fact, even the Capital's streets are empty. I watch as a lone woman makes her way out of one of the apartment buildings with a brilliant pink dog. I find myself wondering what her day will be like. Will she be watching replays of our parade and will she await the scores with eager anticipation? Will she place bets? Or will she only reluctantly watch the scores, dreading the time of the Games and the stomach-churning effect they have on her? What's more, will I be one who makes her stomach knot? I think about this for a while. Sure, call it barbaric, but it's all I've known. I see Brutus enter the room out of the corner of my eye. He helps himself to some coffee and sits next to me. "So what are you planning to show those Gamemakers?" "What do you care?" I snap back at him. He just looks at me with the weirdest look on his face, like I'm a piece of wood he's about to carve. It's true, as the Games draw closer I've been a little more on edge. There are just so many things I don't know. I want to be able to break off of the Careers on the first night, but what if there's some way that isn't possible? I don't know anything about the arena, or even anything about my competition. I turn to Brutus and let out a sigh. He's here to help me, no matter how much I hate him. "I want you to help me determine who competition for me is." I get the words out fast so I can't reclaim the fact that I do need him. "Well, there are obviously the Careers. What do they do this time?" I pause for a second. "Amethyst uses a crossbow and Mercury throws hatchets." Brutus draws in his breath sharply. "Just form the sounds of those weapons; I would say the pair from 1 are no doubt barbaric." I nod. Amethyst and Mercury are both pretty sadistic; they often pause to look at the other tributes with horrifying smiles on their faces. That's the difference between districts 1 and 2. The tributes from 1 smile and talk and act as if killing kids is really a game. The tributes from 2 don't smile.

"Lance uses a machete, usually in hand-to-hand." "Oh, that's not good for you, Jetta. You both fight hand-to-hand and machetes have a clear advantage over daggers." I sit on the edge of my seat. "But I can also throw daggers! That's long range and Lance doesn't have any long range strengths!" Brutus silently shakes his head. "But if he jumps you, you're hopeless." I decide to quickly move on to the next district. "The kids from 3 are surprisingly good. The girl is halfway decent with spears and she makes these elaborate trap-things. The boy makes traps too, only they can electrocute others if you step in the wrong place." Brutus looks taken aback. "That boy will have a man named Beetee as his mentor and he used the electrocuting strategy and won. Don't underestimate those two." He didn't need to tell me twice. It would be humiliating for my entire district for me to not get home because of some underdogs. "The other Careers, Salmon and Lucius are serious. Salmon fights with spears and Lucius uses a trident. But Salmon can't wrestle and neither can Lucius, really." I add quickly. Brutus gives me a knowing smile. Why? "The tributes from 5 are weak. They haven't even gone near the weapons. The tributes from 6 are interesting this year. The girl spends most of her time at plants stations, but the boy is actually pretty good at archery. He runs fast too." Brutus's eyebrows move up. "And what are their attitudes like?" Right, I forgot about his whole "it's all about the attitude" thing. "The girl is pretty weak but the boy seems pretty fearless. He takes charge. I think the two from 3 have made an alliance with them and he's always deciding where they should go next." "Oh yes, he could be a threat." Brutus says.

"The kids from 7 are weaklings; the girl being only 12. The boy can climb though, but that's about it. The two from 8 are similar. I've seen the girl spending her time at the camouflage station, which everyone knows is useless. The boy from 9 knows how to use a scythe but his partner, aside being even older than him can barely pick one up." Brutus chuckles. Why is he laughing? I swear one minute he'll be taking this completely seriously and the next he'll be laughing at some joke in his head only he finds funny. "You might want to stop laughing because there are two girls who I have to take seriously." He does stop immediately. "The girl from 10 uses these strange spiked whips. Whatever they are, she always manages to get just about all of the dummies down." "District 10 is livestock and I'll be willing to bet she works with cattle." He informs me. "Yeah well, she's lethal, I can tell that." All of a sudden, words begin to pour out of my mouth before I can think. "Her partner is weak, but he trusts her, even though she has the upper hand. He's so oblivious! Why would he trust her?" My voice rises in anger by the time I'm done. Brutus just sits back, surprised. I resist the urge to clamp a hand over my mouth. "Why do you seem to care so much about this, Jetta?" He asks; his voice with an icy edge. "Oh you wouldn't understand!" I shout. How can he understand, when I don't even understand myself. I go back to my bedroom and slam the door. Well, that was immature. Oh well. Just then I realize I forgot to tell him about the little girl from 11 who has hardly ever missed with a knife. What he doesn't know can't hurt him.

The bench I'm sitting on is ice cold. My legs want so badly to get up and pace. Lance has been in that room for a while now. Is he walking out this way? Has he left yet and I never saw it? I let out a breath when he walks out. Pf course, he looks annoyingly overconfident. No matter. It's my turn now. I take another breath and thrust the doors open. The training center seems so empty when it's just me. I spot the Gamemakers on their balcony. I make sure to make eye contact with the head when I announce myself. Immediately, I head over to the daggers. I start off throwing them. I've hit all the targets, moving, but it's still not enough. I spar with a trainer and mange to have him flipped in seconds. Then I work on my hand-to-hand with the circle of dummies, but no tribute would be standing that still. Just then, I have an idea. I clutch a dagger in my mouth and I make my way up the climbing course. It is challenging, but we have one at the center back home because usually arenas have trees in them. The Gamemakers favor forests. When I've made it to a small platform at the top, I flick my dagger downwards. It hits a target right in the heart. A smile creeps onto my lips. I climb down the ropes; my hands still sweaty from nerves. I land gracefully on two feet. A voice rings out. "Thank you Jetta, you may be dismissed." That night the scores come on. My hands are still sweaty. _Calm down, Jetta. This is what you've been training for._

Amethyst Rowe, 18-9

Mercury Sullivan, 18-9

Jetta Mason, 15-10

Lance Rhon, 17-9

Pixel Littman, 16-7

Alef Tyrone, 17-8

Salmon Ergo, 17-8

Lucius Carrel, 18-9

Watt Evans, 12-4

Trisa Elec, 14-4

Aston Maybach, 15-7

Bentley Tucker, 17-8

Lisa Pine, 12-3

Birk Stell, 16-5

Chambray Wincey, 14-4

Elliot Terry, 17-5

Nira Barrie, 16-4

Omri Rill, 14-6

Hanna Livingston, 15-8

Mickey Geddes, 15-5

Heather Bryony, 13-8

Rowan Anderson, 18-6

Mara Stein, 14-3

Colton Redding, 14-4


	11. Clipping my Wings

**Interviews: Mickey's POV**

The pile of books on my head crashes to the ground. Honestly, this is just about the most pointless exercise I've ever gone through. At least the lessons from my mentors on what angles I should play in the interviews will be of some help, but I doubt the audience will care if I can walk across the room with a bunch of books on top of me. Eulice, however, thinks otherwise. "Put your shoulders back, Mickey!" He barks constantly. "Stick your chest out!" I try this, only to look like some kind of peacock mutation. Eulice shakes his head. "You know Mickey, I give up. Just try not to trip over yourself tonight." With that, he leaves the room. I know what the meant. He was really telling me I'm beyond hope. I got a score of 5 in private sessions. Hanna got an 8. She could win. And with her help, I can last a lot longer. She would make quite an ally. We've already established that on the first night. She must really trust me. I decide to go over to her room. I'm not surprised her lesson is over as well, but for a different reason. She aced her lesson in poise. She's just sitting on her bed, staring at her hands. "Hey," I whisper, pulling the door open wider. She looks up. "Hey." Something inside me tells me it would be a good idea to sit next to her. "Are you nervous for tonight?" Her lips curve up in a small smile. She should really smile more often. She has this effect that can make me feel just a little bit better whenever she does. "I guess I am a little. But I'm more excited to see my dress." My heart skips a beat and I realize I'm a little bit excited too. There aren't exactly many opportunities to dress up back home. "Well, let's just hope it's nothing like the chariot costumes!" I laugh, surprised that I'm so calm-sounding. Usually being around Hanna tends to make me flustered. Hanna smiles again and just like that, her head is on my shoulder. And I let it stay there. We stay like this for a long time.

"Mickey." Hanna say, so fast we almost get out of this position. "Let's just face the facts, okay? Neither of us is going to make it. So I figure, if I'm not here tomorrow, I have to live right here and now, right?" "Hanna, don't talk like that!" I sigh. Even though she's right. "Well, if we are going to just live now and not get caught up in the past" she pauses and her voice trails off. She knows I've been living in the past for an entire year since Gavin's death. "I want to tell you something Mickey." I know what's coming. "I love you." The words are out of her mouth. What does this mean? I will only know her for maybe a few more days at most. How can I do this? But I know what I have to say. Her whole speech was right. "I love you too." I whisper. "Oh my God, how are we gonna do this?" She bursts out. "Hanna, I don't have that answer!" "How did this happen?" She manages to get out. She's right. How did this happen? We've been thrown together by these Games and now we'll be thrown apart. How could we let ourselves fall in love like that? I've never even been in love! I'm almost relieved when Eulice comes to the door to tell us to head down to the stylists for our preparations. At least I don't have to face Hanna. But as I'm making my way down the hallway, I can't help thinking that maybe this might be something my brother would have wanted. He would want something good to come out of this.

We're all lined bed up outside the stage where a live studio audience will be watching. Hanna stands next to me, fiddling and twisting her dress and her hair. "Hanna, you look fine." I whisper through clenched teeth. I wish I could tell her more, but this doesn't seem like a good time. She really does look stunning though. Her dress is rose colored and falls to her ankles. Her blond hair is in an elegant twist at the top of her head, with little rose pins in it. Her shoes are white heels which are moving side to side nervously right now. I always thought Hanna was the type to have everything under control. But it figures, since she's a girl, she has complete control with a deadly spiked whip, but when you put some makeup on her she has to rush to the bathroom every 5 minutes to check herself. I touch her fingertips with mine, a gesture no one would be able to see but her. And I see her face relax slightly. Suddenly, the stage lights up on Caesar, with silver hair. 1amethyst, the girl from 1 is out. She starts off talking about how long she's been waiting for this night and how glad she is to be here. Whenever Caesar tells a joke that I don't find funny, she always grabs his arm and giggles. Her angle is being completely comfortable with the audience. It worked, because they liked her. Her partner sits back in his seat and plays the audience in the same way. If I ever slouched like that, Eulice would murder me before any tributes had the chance. But he can make it work in his favor because he comes across as calm and calculating. Now here comes the girl from 2. Her stylists must have done a good job. She looks like the night sky in a dress covered in gold flecks. She's the girl who told me "not to trust her." But she wasn't talking about herself, I know that. For every question Caesar has, she has some kind of confident response. She knows what she's doing. The girl who killed Gavin would have known what she was doing too. They train their whole lives for this. Her partner is just a great hulking mass. He doesn't say much, but he doesn't have to. I like the pair from 3. They're both smart and thoughtful. But they're threats, especially the boy. They've got an alliance going with the two from 6. And those two are threats as well. Now we're obviously back to Careers. After the pair from 4, no one stands out much. Except for Ben from 6. He talks about how the Games have torn him away from his little sister and how he's not the only whose life has been torn apart.

And before I know it, Hanna's up. She walks on very gracefully and shakes Caesar's hand with a perfect smile. I'm so tense with nerves that I can't really hear most of it, but she sounds good. She's calm and sweet, and shy too. She's no one you would think to be a threat. And now it's my turn. I remember my angle was supposed to be mysterious as possible. That's good for me because I don't like to talk. I feel a pair of hands gently shove me towards the stage and I do manage to get up the steps without tripping. Caesar shakes my hand and motions for me to take a seat. "So Mickey, have you made any alliances yet?" He starts off. "Yes. But you'll just have to wait and see until I get into the arena." Caesar makes an exaggerated sad face. "Come on Mickey, you can tell!" I shrug and I force a sly smile on my lips. "Hey, it would be more fun to be surprised, right?" Okay, I'm doing well. I haven't given away anything and I've somehow made myself intriguing. Eulice and my mentors will be pleased. "Now, how do you feel about your training score?" Oh, that's a little more difficult. I stop for a split second to think. "Sometimes people are underestimated." I can hear whispers in the crowd. "Are you saying the other tributes may underestimate you?" Caesar asks after a considerable pause. "Well, I wouldn't be able to tell you that, but I do know that there are going to be some surprises for them in the arena." I don't even know what I just said, but I sounded strong. I didn't sound like me, but I sounded strong. The buzzer goes off.

I lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling. The Games are tomorrow. Tomorrow may be the last time I ever see Hanna. With that I get out of bed and head down the hallway. Hanna's room light is off and she's fast asleep. I turn around and before I know it I'm out of the rooms District 10 gets and in front of the elevator. I'm not sure exactly why, but I want to go up to the roof. I just need some air and a spot to think. I get in the elevator and press the button marked "R." The doors open and I'm greeted by the cool night air. I make my way over to a balcony. The lights hear are so bright I can't even see the stars. I look up at the moon, a golden orb in the sky. Just then, I hear a clear high voice singing a haunting tune from across the roof. As I listen to the words, chills form down my back.

_Run, run, run and hide_

_Somewhere no one else can find_

_Fly high across the sky from here to Kingdom Come_

_Fall down back to where you're from_

I move toward the sound, only because the lyrics make me think of Gavin's Games so vividly. There, standing at the railing with tears going down her face, is the girl from 2. She whips her head around towards me and I stumble back. "I just was listening to you sing and I thought of my brother because he died last year because he didn't fly away." I burst out. Why did I just tell her that? But her expression softens for some reason. "You volunteered." She says softly. Why is she acting like this? This isn't like a Career at all. But then her face hardens again. "Don't trust your partner. You can't trust anyone." With that, she leaves. Was she trying to help me? No, she couldn't have been. I have to trust Hanna. She's my only hope, really.


	12. Bloodbath Just Numbers

**Day 1: Heather Bryony's POV**

The cold wind is the first thing to greet my face as I step outside for the first time in days. I'm on the roof of the training center, where a hovercraft is waiting to take us to the arena. I see the tiny figures of the pair from 12 boarding. I'm probably one of the last ones to get on. Seeder and Chaff are standing at the edge of the platform. Seeder waves me towards the craft. My legs have a mind of their own and I'm soon aboard. There is a line of chairs for us to sit in and I take a seat with one marked "11 F" on it. Rowan sits across from me. It's actually good that neither of us wants an alliance. Originally, it was because he thought I was small and weak. Then I outscored him. I guess now he's scared to be in an alliance with someone who has a higher score. I sit back in my seat. So I've managed to scare a boy who probably has 70 to 100 pounds on me and 5 years. I wonder what effect I have on the others. I feel the hovercraft taking off. Next to me, the girl from 8 whimpers pathetically. She's immediately met by the Career from 4's smirk. That's right. The girl from 4 was the one who gave me that look a few days ago during training. What's her name? Salmon. I vaguely remember her name from her interview. She was cold and ruthless. I look down into my lap and see that my hands are clenched. I have a right to be frightened. After the girl from 7 and the boy from 12, I'm the youngest one. Now what are their names? A thought hits me. Maybe it would be best to not remember names. Their deaths would be so much harder to stomach. Besides, if I want to live for at least some time, I may have to kill someone. How can I do that? I do know that it would make it do much harder if I knew my victim's name. Next to me sits the boy from 10. He's staring at his partner with the strangest look on his face. Something tells me he'll be gone soon. Now I feel the craft descending. The girl from 8's whimpering becomes sobs. I find myself thinking of how weak she is. None of us are crying, not even the small ones. I quickly snap out of it. If that girl was my sister crying, how would I feel? Why have I begun to think so strangely? It looks like the Games have already started to change me.

Praia, my stylist lays out the outfit we're all supposed to wear. She looks at it with a confused expression on her face and I shift with impatience. "So do you have any idea what the arena might be?" I burst out. She closes her eyes. "This is a first for me; Heather, but I honestly have no idea. The clothes are just too neutral." She's right. There's a thin sweatshirt, but no heavy coat. The pants are just leggings and there's a simple white t-shirt with black running shoes. None of the kids in 11 have ever worn running shoes besides the mayor's kids and the Head Peacekeeper's son. I've always wanted a pair. As soon as I put them on I wonder how I ever managed to run without them. They're light as air. However, Praia bursts my thought instantly. "They give no help as to what the terrain might be. Usually, tributes get boots, thick soles for hiking, which means mountains, or heavy ones for cold. These are just shoes for running. It's almost as if you'll be indoors." She's obviously very confused. That's when I begin to worry. "Will there be trees?" Praia shakes her head. "I told you, I really have no idea." How can I hide if there aren't any trees? What's more important, how will I get food? Suddenly, I'm pulled out of my worries by a mechanical voice counting down from 60. Praia practically shoves me into the circular pipe that will land me into the unknown arena. I step inside the confined space and I'm shot upwards into the sunlight. As soon as I reach my platform, I realize I have exactly 30 seconds to look around. That's when I see it. It's a city. The buildings are all the same; gray and about five stories. We're in a small field, but there are no trees in sight. The streets between the buildings are very narrow. I guess Praia was right. This year's Hunger Games will be fought indoors. Not the place for a girl from 11.

The gong sounds and everything is a blur. I sprint on my lighter-than air shoes. I run away from the Cornucopia, managing to snag a knife and a water bottle. Then I stop. A black backpack sits at my feet. I have a one-second long conflict within myself. It's right here, but do I have time to get it? Then, a hand grabs it. Before I can think, my knife is in the boy from 8's chest and I have the bag. I'm running now, away from his body with a bloody knife in my hand. I sprint down narrow streets; my chest heaving. I turn corner after corner, seeing the same identical building repeating themselves. Gray. Five stories high. Clear double doors. Over and over again. I stop once I realize my search is pointless. I don't even know what I'm looking for, but I haven't found it. If I was searching for a water source, it's clear that there are none. Where could one fit? I look up at the building standing before me. What could be inside? Some horrible booby-trap riddled by Gamemakers? It could be a safe refuge from other tributes, though. What does it matter? It's not like I have a choice. I need somewhere to hide and I don't exactly have a lot of options. I take a deep breath and swing the double doors open. If I'm expecting something to pop out at me, it never does. The inside is much the same as the outside; gray. Some stairs run up through the floors. I walk over to them. I might as well put as much distance between myself and the others. I climb then slowly. They make an awful creaking noise. I'm the first tribute to climb them, but if someone were to come into my building I would know of their arrival long before we saw each other. I imagine what could be at the top. Probably lots of different colored doors, all closed and I have to pick the one that determines whether I live or die. Once again, I'm wrong. All the doors are gray yet again, and they're all slightly ajar. I go into the second room on the left. It's completely empty except for a large white box with a door at the end, and a closet to the side. There's wallpaper; a cheerful floral print. I advance slowly towards the box. Just then I realize it's a refrigerator. Well, no one could convince me to eat the food in there. Gamemakers offering us both food and shelter? Impossible. So I empty the contents of my bag. There is another water bottle along with the one I collected and two additional knives. There is also a bag of trail mix, two bags of beef jerky, a lighter and a thin blanket. I'm thinking it's around enough for 3 days when I hear the double doors open.

Someone is inside. I wait; silently frozen. But the stairs haven't begun to creak. Whoever just came in isn't anywhere near me. I don't need to kill them. Whoever they are, they're no threat. They're probably just a weakling. No one with a relatively high score isn't in an alliance, besides me, and judging from the footsteps it's just one. I think back to the boy from 9. It wasn't hard, you know. I just did it. And if I do it again, I'll have two less people to worry about. I'll be two steps closer to winning. _It's just a number. Think of it as a number. They're just a tally mark. _I tell myself. So I slip out of the room and into the area above the stairs. I spot a moving figure and flick a knife down. It's met its mark because I hear a soft thud. They may not be dead yet. I'm not sure if the knife hit a lethal area and there's only one way to find out. I fly down the stairs. The girl from 5 lies at my feet, the knife buried in her side. I could kill her eventually, but it would take a long time. She moans at my feet. No, I don't want to listen to that anymore. Moaning is a sign that she is a human being and I have to think she's a number. So I snap her neck. It's quick and quiet. And another number is gone. I find a small smile creep onto my lips. _I can do this. I can really do this. It's not so hard, really. Just keep calm and do it fast, and they'll be gone, one by one. And I'll be the last one left. _ And just like that, the victory doesn't seem like some impossible spot in the distance or an unattainable idea, but something within reach. I look out the windows in my room as faces fill the sky. _No, not faces. Not people. Just numbers._

The Fallen:

Watt Evans D5

Trisa Elec D5

Birk Stell D7

Chambray Wincey D8

Elliot Terry D8

Nira Barrie D9

Omri Rill D9

Rowan Anderson D11

Mara Stein D12

Colton Redding D12


	13. A New Threat

**Day 2: Bentley's POV**

The first thing I see when I wake up is Pixel staring at the tiny fridge in our room. I bolt up. "Pixel, don't you dare go near it!" I shout. Pixel leaps back. "Sorry," she mutters. "Yeah, I'm sorry for freaking out on you like that, but the food in there is obviously gonna be poisoned." Pixel nods. "But I've been thinking, Ben." Okay, Pixel's been thinking. This is going to be good. Whenever the pair from 3 has a plan, you know it's well–thought out. "I thought that since every room in this building has a fridge and we've seen that it's the same for every building, then there must be some that aren't poisoned." I stop for a minute to let her words sink in. She's right about a fridge being in every room of every building, we saw that yesterday. "Well, let's not take any chances just yet. I managed to get some granola and water and Alef got some crackers and you've got jerky. We've got enough for now." "Okay, you're right." Now the others have begun to wake up, likely after hearing my panicked shouting. Alef fingers his spool of wire and I run my finger along the curve of the bow I have. In fact, we all have our weapons. Pixel has a spear and Aston has a belt full of assorted vials of poison. Our weapons were so strangely easily attainable. My bow, along with a sheath of 12 arrows was practically leaning against my platform at the Cornucopia. Pixel, Aston and Alef all tell me the same. I turn to Alef. "I don't get this. Bows are kept right at the center of the Cornucopia, where tributes will really have to fight over each other to get one. A bow with a sheaf of 12 arrows is extremely expensive. But compare to the price of your wires, it's small. And yet your wires were literally 3 feet away!" Alef keeps fingering the wire. "You're right, it doesn't make sense. I saw that District 10 girl avoid death at least 3 times while desperately trying to get to a spiked whip of some sort. And our weapons were just….there. The Gamemakers practically handed them to us." Now a whispery voice fills the room. "If they handed them to us, there must be a reason. Alef, Ben; I think the Gamemakers want us to ambush the Careers. For the Capital, that would be pretty entertaining." For a girl who hardly ever speaks, Aston is pretty smart.

"Well, if they think that, we're not going to. Come on, I can't believe they think we're that stupid. There are only four of us and six of them." Pixel shrugs. "They would know we wouldn't ambush them yet, but maybe later." Alef speaks up. "Or it's for another reason entirely." It's silent for a little while, as each of us thinks up reasons why weapons were handed to us. "Mutts," Aston whispers. We all turn to her; surprised. "Think about it," she says quickly. "So far there hasn't been a single hazard in this arena. There's no rough terrain or dense trees. The temperatures are regulated, it's room temperature and everyone has shelter if it storms. This is just too easy." I think I'm catching on. "So you're saying that there has to be some kind of a catch." She smiles a sad, if not satisfied smile. "But we're inside, that's just it!" Alef shouts, obviously exasperated. "If there really were mutts, we would be safe indoors." "We are going to have to go out at some time." I remind him. "Hey, I'm hungry!" Pixel says suddenly. I notice that my own stomach has begun to growl, so I give everyone a handful of granola. It's silent while we crunch. Aston leans back and sighs. Then, the sound of creaking sends her shooting up. I guess peacefulness can't last long in the arena. Pixel picks up her spear and I string an arrow and point it at the door. Aston and Alef have their hands on two knives they managed to get while running from the Cornucopia. There wasn't really any way they could defend themselves in immediate danger with their other weapon choices. I do know for a fact, though, that Aston's knife is coated with poison. The footsteps get closer and closer. "There are two of them" I whisper to the others. Pixel's grip on her spear has her knuckles turning white. Aston is taking sharp, shallow breaths, and Alef's knees are buckling. They're scared. And they have a reason to be. The door opens and the pair from 10 both let out gasps.

Within seconds, the boy throws the girl back and puts his hands up. Well, that wasn't the smartest thing to do, considering the fact that he's weaponless and she is holding a whip I know she's very capable of using. But it seems like he's protecting her. How strange. I motion for the others to lower their weapons. "We could join your alliance." The boy says. The girl, recovering from being pushed down nods. I look the boy over. I can tell from their silence that the others in my group are giving me the decision. What I'm really thinking is that I want the girl, but not the weak boy, but I reluctantly accept them both. If the boy is weaker than us, he won't be a threat. The boy is smiling now. "My name's Mickey and this is Hanna." "Well, Mickey and Hanna, you are going to have to contribute something to this alliance." I tell them. "Like food!" Aston pipes up. They sit down, and Mickey pulls out a box of some kind of energy bar. I sit down too. "I was thinking of information." Mickey nods. "The Careers are camped out next to the Cornucopia. We could see them from our old building, but we moved here because we wanted to put more distance between us." Now it's Hanna speaking. "They have Salmon guarding the supplies while the rest of them just left for hunting." By now, we all know what "hunting" means. "There's something different this year though." We all turn to Hanna. "One of them broke away from the group; I think her name is Jetta. They're probably hunting her for being a traitor." Mickey gets a strange look on his face at this. He looks genuinely worried. Maybe he's worried that they'll run into us along the way. But still, why would he be worried? This is a good thing, actually. Jetta is serious competition and the sooner she goes the better. "So who else is left?" Pixel asks. "All of the Careers are still left, and the small girls from 11 and 7." Hanna responds. "That is strange." Alef remarks. "How is it that both those small girls are left, what have they been doing?" "Hey, let's not forget that the girl from 11 got an 8 in training." Aston pipes up. Right, she was the girl who I think wanted to join our alliance, but I never approached her and she never approached me. Will she still want to join? "So I guess we're just going to wait here." Alef says. The others nod. This arena has made for very nerve-racking Games. There isn't anything we can do besides sit in silent and wait. I don't know for how long, or what we're waiting for. Someone to attack, I guess.

I glance around. Alef is making knots with his wire while Pixel watches him with interest. Aston twists the tops of her vials uneasily. Hanna runs her finger down her whip, and then leans against Mickey's shoulder. He runs his fingers through her hair. Oh my God. They're in love. How? Why? Well, there's no time to think about it now. Love could never last for long, I know that for a fact. "We can't just sit here!" I burst out. "Hanna, did you say that Salmon was alone?" Hanna nods. "As of two hours ago." I look around the group. "So there's six of us, then and one of her. I say we attack, grab all the supplies we can get, and then get rid of Salmon. Let's face it, she's a Career and that's trouble. She's got to go." Pixel, Alef and Aston all look presumably uncomfortable with the idea of killing. Mickey looks even more uncomfortable, due to the fact that he's unarmed. Hanna is the only one who looks relatively calm with the idea. But the others quickly get themselves together and we grab our weapons and go. Everyone rushes down the stairs and out the door. As we walk down the narrow allies, Pixel turns to me. "How big do you think this thing is? Could we run into the Careers?" "Just keep quiet," I hiss through clenched teeth. But I'm just as worried as she is. We're headed towards the field. Just as we're about to round the corner, I see Sal mom's figure. She's sitting by the supplies; knife at the ready. I motion for the others to follow. Suddenly, Salmon falls over. I see the knife in her back. I motion, panicked to the others. I can make out the 11 girl's figure as she steals some apples. So she's got a deadly aim and she's not afraid to kill. It looks like we've overlooked someone. And that's deadly in the arena.


	14. One Second Too Late

**Day 3: Jetta's POV**

_Tall trees bend and lean pointing where to go_

_Where you will still be alone_

I probably shouldn't be singing like this. Someone could hear me. But if my sister is watching on that old TV set at the home or the large one at the Training center, I'd want her to see me singing our song. It calms me, at least. The part about "being alone" is true. The advantage of being in the Career pack is that there are others to talk to. Granted, usually you talk about who your next kill will be, but it's still talking. Now that I've broke off I've discovered just how insane being alone can make you. I've also found that it's pretty easy to go insane in this arena. There isn't any nature in sight. Every corner you turn is exactly the same as the last. It's creepy. Oh well. It makes it tougher for those Careers to find me. Although, they seem to be occupied with their own troubles. Last night, I saw Salmon's face in the sky. How could that have happened? Maybe those kids from 3 and 6 got to her. They've formed an alliance that could be pretty hard to take down. I sit on the floor of my wallpapered room and examine the meager contents I managed to steal from the Careers' stash. Not having enough supplies is another disadvantage of sneaking away. I have a six pack of small water bottles, a bag of beef jerky, a bag of dried cherries, a blanket and a box of saltines. Of course, I have several daggers of varying sizes as well. Maybe that sounds like a lot to you, but if it's all you have to live then you're in trouble. It's not like there's any way to get food in this place. I haven't even seen an ant or a blade of grass, let alone trees and game. It's not like they taught us how to hunt in District 2 anyways. At least not for animals. I guess I'd be pretty helpless at finding what plants to eat too. All I've ever heard is "the only hinting for food you'll be doing is when you hunt for sponsors." They're supposed to be my food source. I eat a couple of cherries to keep my mind from wandering too far. And then the door to my building opens.

I stand by my door with my dagger at the ready. I'm not up to just running down there and killing them. They could offer an alliance and someone to talk to. Besides, the footsteps are much too light to belong to a pack of Careers. Whoever it is comes up the staircase. They don't have to climb for long because I'm only on the 2nd floor. Just then, I see the tiny figure of the District 7 girl brush past me and head into the next room. Do I want an alliance with her? She's only 12 and she got a 3 in Training. Still, she has managed to avoid the Careers for this long. Well, I'm certainly not going to kill her. That's certainly not what sponsors are looking for. They don't care if I'm able to kill an underfed little girl. They want to see some real action. I'm not like that coward Lance, who at the Bloodbath went straight to the weakest tributes. I'm looking for a fight. I'm looking for someone I have a reason to kill. And I don't have a reason to kill her. I guess if I sat pretty quiet, we can just ignore each other. So I sit for a while, resisting the urge to hum. What is with me and singing lately? It's not like we Careers are trained to sit and sing! Then it hits me. I'm not really a Career anymore. Sure, I can't exactly erase years of training, but I've just about broken every rule there is to be a Career. I didn't listen to my mentor when he told me I wasn't ready and I broke away from the others on the first night. And somehow, I've began to have sympathy for the District 10 boy. I can't help it. He intrigues me. It's not like every outer district kid just up and volunteers. So I find my thoughts wandering to him. He's probably with his partner. He's so stupid! Why does he trust her? And most of all, why do I find myself wanting to protect him? I hear the door move behind me. Just as I turn around the girl lets out an ear-piercing shriek. I quickly show her my empty hands. "I'm not going to hurt you!" I shout, as surprised as she is. What is this? A sympathetic girl from 2? How is this going to go over with my sponsors? I see the girl's skinny legs shaking. "You're not?" She whispers. Okay, that's just too pathetic. "Sure, we could be an alliance." I'm using the same tone of voice I use to calm down my little sister. Sure, it's not like Clove's life was ever at stake, and those people watching this are sure going to be surprised, but the little girl seems calmer. She nods hesitantly and sits down next to me. She eyes my supplies. "You have so much." She turns to me and smiles. That's when I notice that she doesn't have anything. "Where are your supplies?" She shakes her head. "I don't have any. I was too scared to get any at the Bloodbath so I just ran." "But you don't have any food or water!" When she sees the shocked look on my face she quickly adds "I've been without food longer." She fingers my pack of water bottles and I thrust one into her hands. After nearly drinking the entire thing, she turns to me. "Thanks! My name is Lisa, by the way." "My name is Jetta." She looks at me. "Aren't you a Career?" I nod. "Then why are helping me?" That's a good question. "I couldn't kill you. That just wouldn't be right. I'm only killing if I have a reason to do it, like if I'm attacked. I'm not sure I'd want to have my little sister see me as a murderer. Sure, I'm a Career so I'm ruthless and all that, but I just don't run around like mad killing others either." She giggles. "What?" "It's just the way you said that last part!" She giggles again. And before I know it, I'm laughing too. How long has it been since I last laughed?

I hand Lisa the bag of dried cherries. She shovels them gratefully into her mouth. "What's your little sister like?" She asks suddenly. I take a moment to answer. "She's really strong. She looks small but she's got courage. And she can't get beat in throwing knives, even if she's only 9." Lisa smiles a soft smile at me. "It sounds like you really miss her. I bet you love her a lot. I miss my little sister too." Outside our window, the light in the arena is dimming. I lay out the blanket. "I'm going to get to sleep now." I tell Lisa. I shrug the blanket over me and lay my head on the hard wood. I cover the floor under my head with my arms and drift off. I wake up to a small, shivering form getting under the covers with me. And instead of shrugging her away, I find my arm over her shoulders. Lisa buries her head in my shoulder. "I think you are a very good older sister." She whispers. And we stay like this for a while. Suddenly, I'm awake. There is a very bright light in the hallway. Wait a minute, a bright light? "Fire!" I scream I shake Lisa. "Lisa get up, the building's on fire!" Lisa stays fast asleep. "Lisa, please you have to get up!" I scream. I thrust the window open. We're on the 2nd floor, so the drop isn't too far. I spot a gutter on the side of the building. "Lisa, get up! I scream. "There's a gutter on the side, we can climb down!" I pull her up. She opens her eyes groggily. The heat is so intense. That's when I see it. Lisa has escaped my grip. She's opening the door that was just a crack before, but now is wide open. "What is that?" She just has time to shout this, before the flames cover her. "NO!" I scream and I try to pull her back. My hand brushes her shoulder, but it's too hot. My hand stings intensely and I bring it back and run to the window. It's too late for Lisa now. I leap out of the window and onto the gutter. The last I see of Lisa is her tiny body screaming in agony and covered in fire. My feet hit the ground with a thud. I cover my hand with my sweatshirt, but that does little for the pain. I sit on the ground and begin to sob. I knew Lisa was going to die eventually, but this? This was so horrible. What did she do to deserve that? By now, sobs are racking my entire body. It's all because of those Gamemakers. They tore us both away from our families. Who will remember Lisa now? I struggle to my feet. I can't do this anymore. How can those other Careers take this? But I have to keep going. I have to get home to Clove and bring my district glory. So I stumble away from the building. And then I see her. It's the other small girl, the one from 11. An insane smile is lighting up her face as she stares up at the burning building. She's off running before I can even draw my dagger. But not before I see the container of kerosene in her left hand.

Still Alive:

Amethyst Rowe D1

Mercury Sullivan D1

Jetta Mason D2

Lance Rhon D2

Pixel Littman D3

Alef Tyrone D3

Lucius Carrel D4

Aston Maybach D6

Bentley Tucker D6

Hanna Livingston D10

Mickey Geddes D10

Heather Bryony D11


	15. Sudden Savior

**Day 4: Mickey's POV**

My back has never felt stiffer as it does now. 3 nights of sleeping on hardwood floors will do that to you. Hanna has just woken up as well but the others are still asleep. I look over to her. "Good morning." I say, hoping my face doesn't look as hot as it feels. I can't help it. That's just the way I get around her. She sighs. "Oh yes, just another beautiful morning in the Hunger Games! And may the odds..." "Be ever in your favor!" I finish. Hanna sits up. "You know the girl from 7 died in that fire last night." She turns to me. "I wonder how it happened." I shrug. "Well, there hadn't been any deaths that day. The Gamemakers were probably just bored." She nods, and then turns to me suddenly. "Hey, Mickey, let's wake these other guys up." She has the biggest grin on her face. Okay, she looks really cute. "Here, watch this." She moves over to Alef's snoring form. "Alef, wake up." Her voice sounds high pitched and I begin to laugh. "Alef, it's your mother, you've got to wake up now. Alef, wake up!" She screeches. Alef lets out a snort and sits up. "Mom, what is it?" He shouts groggily. Hanna and I are collapsing with laughter. It takes a few more seconds for Alef to realize where he is. "What the hell, you guys!" He groans. By now, Pixel, Aston and Ben are awake. Hanna tells them what happened and soon we're all laughing. Except Alef, of course, whose face has turned bright red. I put my arm around Hanna's shoulder. "Good one." She smiles and rests her head on my shoulder. How long has it been since I last laughed? It's been more than a year, I think. And of all places, I'm laughing in the middle of the Hunger Games. Hanna can have that effect, I guess. Pixel looks at us sternly. "All right, you two young lovers, did you know we're in the top 12? That means these Games are halfway done. It only gets harder from here. You know why?" Alef nods tensely. "Yeah, those Careers will have us on the top of their minds right now." He's right. At this point, it's us, the girl from 11, the girl from 2, and the Careers. "Hey, what about that little girl from 11?" I say. "She killed a member of the Careers. We haven't really done anything. They're probably hunting her down because she's top priority. Pixel looks down. "I wish it were that simple. But just think like a Career for a minute. You would want to finish off the weaker ones first, the ones who aren't any competition. And in their minds, we're the weak ones." Ben stands up. "Well then, let's prove them wrong."

So now I'm following Ben, who just mind have gone off in the head, down narrow alleys with a throwing knife in my right hand. I can't throw knives! How on earth will I be able to take down a guy who has 50 pounds on me, with years of weapons training? Hanna is walking next to me, looking confident. Of course. She can use that whip like it's a deadly extension of her arm. Pixel carries her spear and Aston has her vials of poison. If all goes as planned, she'll be able to sneak some into the Career's food while we distract the pack. But everything isn't exactly going as planned. You see, we have absolutely no idea where we're going. This horrible arena is to blame, with its identical corners and streets. "We got to their field once, we can do it again!" Ben shouts. But last time the walk only took a few minutes. It feels as if we've been walking for hours. "I'm really thirsty." Aston says softly. She's not just whining. Her voice sounds hoarse. At least it's not hot out here. The arena's perfectly regulated temperatures account for that. "Let's just sit down." Pixel suggests. So we do. When a beeping noise pierces the air, everyone jumps up in fright. "What was that?" Alef shouts. Then, Hanna smiles and points up to the sky. "It's help." She's right. A parachute lands at our feet. Aston grins and claps her hands. "We've got sponsors!" She exclaims. That gives me a glimmer of hope. There are people out there who think we can win. Well, of course, there is no "we" because there can only be one winner, but the thought behind it is good enough. The parachute has a small box and inside the box are 6 small pouches filled with water. Everyone grabs one eagerly and soon the only sound that can be heard is that of grateful sipping. Suddenly, Aston sits up. "The streets are changing!" We all stare at her, extremely confused. "Don't you get it? The Gamemakers are shifting the streets! That's why it's taking so much longer to get to the field." The look on everyone's face is clear. It's like a light bulb went off. Then Ben stands. "If the streets really are changing, the Careers could be closer than we thought." Everyone starts walking again with a newfound energy. It's the kind of energy that can only come from fear. I don't mention that the Careers aren't our only threats. There are two more lethal competitors out there. One being another Career and the other is a girl who looks small but is not afraid to kill. Now that I think about it, it seems very odd that she would go completely by herself and kill that girl from 4. Why would any 13 year old from 11 go off to face a trained killer with several years on them? Maybe she didn't think at all. And maybe she's insane. If that's the case, we've got trouble on our hands. Then, Ben motions suddenly for us to stop. The tip of the Cornucopia is rising in the distance.

We crouch behind a building. Ben draws his bow. "Okay, I'm going to count to 3." We all know what's going to happen at 3.

_3 _Pixel's gripping the spear so hard her knuckles are white

_2 _Alef takes a rasping breath and fingers his knife

_1 _Hanna runs her hand down her whip

And then we run. I have my knife at the ready and I'm so full of adrenaline that I don't even have time to worry. But something's not right. The counterattack we've been waiting for never happens. The field is empty. Pixel groans. "Now what?" Ben looks at the ground and shrugs. "I don't know." Pixel gets suddenly irritated at this. "So now our fearless leader finally doesn't know what to do!" She puts her hands on her hips. "What gave you the authority to be leader anyway?" "I hate to say it, but Pixel's right." I tell him. Alef throws his knife on the ground. "Yeah, we've been listening to you ever since the alliance started! None of us thought it was a good idea to ambush a bunch of trained killers, but no, we listened to you! You never even gave it a second thought that most of us aren't even adequate with the weapons you gave us. You just sent us into the lion's den!" Ben opens his mouth to respond, but instead a hair-raising scream comes out. It sends chills down my spine. I slowly turn around. Aston's tiny, lifeless body is on the ground. Her white t-shirt is covered in blood and a gash runs down her neck. Her cannon fires as Hanna stands behind her, her blood-soaked whip raised. "Hanna, why?" I scream as Pixel sprints away behind me. Instead of answering, Hanna slams me down. "No!" I scream as she raises her whip. "No please!" Then, as she lowers her face to mine, I whimper "we promised we'd do this together. Hanna, I love you." She moves down to my ear and whispers. "Why would you think I loved you? You were just my game piece. And in the Hunger Games, there are no promises." She raises her whip yet again. I brace myself for the pain that's sure to come. At least it will be nothing compared to the pain I have inside. But it never comes. Instead, I feel Hanna slump over my body. I bolt up and grab my knife, but an identical one rests in her back. Her cannon fires. And just like that, the only person since Gavin's death I've ever truly loved is gone. I look around to see who her killer is. I want to run, but my feet feel anchored in place. It's like fear has become their anchor. Is this how Gavin felt when he died? And then I see her. She makes no move to draw another knife. She's walking towards me now. And I don't run. Because this girl who just took Hanna's life saved mine. Somehow I knew who it would be before I even saw her. It's the girl from District 2.


	16. Predator and Prey

**Day 5: Heather's POV**

_One step closer. I'm one step closer. _When the small container of kerosene fell from the sky last night, I honestly had no idea what to do with it. But then I looked at my lighter and it hit me. Someone wants me to win almost as much as I do. Why else would they have sent me something capable of so much destruction? Burning that building was easy, you know. I just poured the kerosene and flicked the lighter and just as fast as those flames consumed the building, I was closer to winning. It's a shame the flames were put out so fast. A strange mist descended on the building and just like that, it was over. No doubt those Gamemakers are standing in my way. I didn't even have a chance to finish off the girl from 2! She's the real competition, not the sniffling, whimpering runt I did manage to off. Still, she was another number gone. I take one of my knives and make another etch in the wall next to me. There are 14 down, 10 left. Two girls' faces were in the sky last night. I'm overcome with a burning anger, almost as hot as those flames that should have consumed more lives. It's all the Gamemakers' fault. They're the real assassins here. If only I could run _them_ through with a knife. I force myself to take a breath. What's done is done. I have to focus on the present. I chew some beef jerky and ponder what my next move might be. There is always the Alliance to consider. That's what I've been calling them. It's them, the Careers, and the Loner. No, the tributes don't have names. It's so good to have a mind of your own. No one can control your thoughts and how you think of others. I can think of them as not having names and no one can stop me. They will never have names. And they will never be people. Does the Alliance feel bad about not letting me in now? Now that I am a threat to them? If they don't, I can make sure they do. I run my finger along my wrist. It stops when it hits something. A bracelet, woven out of strands of grass. It's filthy and bloodstained. I rip it off without hesitation.

I pull a knife out. The blade is cool and shiny. Knives are like me. They are small, but they can take down the heaviest of competitors. It doesn't matter how hard you have trained for this. If your back is turned and that knife hits you just right, you will meet the same fate as every other lowly district kid here. With my knives, I am in control. Control. And don't I have the ultimate kind of it? Only I can control whether my competitors live or die. I have 8 knives right now. I snatched some of the Careers' knives after killing the Career from 4 who wanted me to die. Is that enough knives to take down the Alliance? It's likely not. To answer my thoughts, a beeping noise fills the air. It's my second gift from sponsors. Oh yes, someone wants me to win. I will make them happy. I rush over to the parachute. Inside is a sort of black Velcro belt with a pouch attached. The pouch has about a dozen rows of tiny slots. There is a row of six slots in front, and six slots behind that. In 4 slots there are four different shaped knives. Someone has just sent me a belt for all my knives and 4 others besides. Now I can carry all of them. I slip the belt over my waist and pull, then Velcro the strap. I slide my remaining knives in and glance at the mirror across the room. It seems so silly to put a mirror in the arena. Those Capital citizens and their constant thoughts on looks never fail to surprise me. Still, I want to look right for more sponsors. I suppose I do. A girl wearing black running shoes, black leggings, a black belt and a white t-shirt reflects back. Her ponytail is loose and unkempt. I try sit down and work at the hairs until my hair is in a high, immaculate ponytail. Not a single hair is out of place. Good. That's how I like it. I pause for a minute. The t-shirt is a rather unfortunate coler. I pull the thin sweatshirt on over. That's better. Now my prey won't see me. It hides the knives rather well too. Just then, an idea hits me. If all goes as planned, I won't have to sneak up on the Alliance at all. In fact, the prey will walk right into the predator's trap.

I roam the streets for a while. But I'm not lost. I saw the Alliance leave their building yesterday. I and been watching them for a while, deciding when and how to strike. I overheard them talking. The girl tribute from 3 had decided that they should mark their building so they could tell it from the rest because it held their supplies. So she took a knife and etched 3 lines next to the door. They were small, but I'll be able to see them. I scan the buildings for 3 etches. After a short while, I've found it. I slip inside. Once in, I sit on the floor next to the door. I grasp my left leg and bite my lip with an extreme force I didn't know I had in me. The pain is horrible and my eyes begin to water. As blood wells up inside my mouth, the tears begin to flow freely. Perfect. I whimper loudly and manage a sob. To me it sounds exaggerated, but it must have worked because I hear the sound of footsteps racing down the stairs. The remaining three members of the Alliance stop abruptly halfway down the stairs when they recognize me. The boy raises his bow. "Please." I whisper, clutching my leg. The girl cries out to him "Ben, I can't do this!" He looks at her, then back to me. Now the other boy speaks up. "Ben, I know you saw her kill, but she's hurt. Besides, are you going to become a killer now?" Even though it's hard, I force myself to sob. "Please, I had to! She was hunting me down! I did what I had to do and I'm so sorry!" Now, I know she wasn't hunting me down. I'm the predator. But it's working. Ben is lowering his weapon. "Oh, once I can walk again I can help you. I can throw knives!" Yeah, like they don't know that. They do look hesitant, but the girl soon rushes forward and helps me up. I make sure to grimace. As we hobble up the stairs, she asks "How did this happen?" I take a minute, pretending to gasp at the sudden weight on my leg. "I was running from theses mutts. There were so many of them. At first, they only look like mice, but they have fangs almost as big as their heads. I think they're wired to form together and chase tributes, because I've never seen mice like these. I just managed to get away." The girl turns toward the other. "Maybe it's best to stay away from doors." They nod. I'm led into a room identical to all the others in this twisted arena.

Once we're inside I mostly just pass the time staring out the window on the top floor. I'm aware of everyone staring at me. The girl shifts uneasily. "So, um, what do you think we should do about your ankle?" I look at her and shrug. "I don't think it's broken, just sprained." I give her a small smile. "I'll live." The light outside the window has changed from light to dark and I see the boys unrolling a blanket. I notice that the tribute from 10 is not here. Wasn't he part of the Alliance? Suddenly, I find myself wanting to know more about those two girls who died last night. "Hey, Pixel," I find myself using her name, but only because it seems necessary. She'll be gone soon enough. She turns to me. "What happened to those girls last night?" She looks away for a moment, and then sighs. "Hanna betrayed us. She killed Aston, but right when she was about to kill Mickey, the girl from 2 threw a dagger at her. Alef, Ben and I ran away before we could see what happened. Mickey's still alive, so that girl didn't kill him. At least not yet." I nod and give her what I hope looks like a look of sadness and curl up. It's going to be a long night. I busy myself with counting the boards on the wall while I wait for the others' breathing to become heavier. There are 32 boards on all sides of the room. Just like in my room. Creepy. Finally, everyone is asleep. One boy is snoring, and the other tributes are breathing heavier. I creep over to Number 15. She'll be Number 15 dead. Number 15's eyes are scrunched tightly shut. She looks so small in sleep. And so vulnerable. I waste no time to drive a knife into her chest and give it a firm twist before yanking it out. She flutters her eyes and gives a chilling scream before her head falls limply back. Numbers 16 and 17 leap out of bed, but Number 16 trips. Perfect. Number 17 almost trips over him, but he flails his arm out and it crashes into the wall. He cries out loudly, but he's off and running before I can reach him. Number 16 is still flat on the ground. I jump on top of him and do the same thing to him as I did to Number 15. The tribute from 6, Number 17 managed to escape. But no matter. I am two steps closer. And he will be gone soon.

Still Alive:

Amethyst Rowe D1

Mercury Sullivan D1

Jetta Mason D2

Lance Rhon D2

Lucius Carrel D4

Bentley "Ben" Tucker D6

Mickey Geddes D10

Heather Bryony D11


	17. Nowhere to Run

**Day 6: Ben's POV**

I knew from the start that something wasn't right. Why would no one pay attention to what I had to say? Thinking this, a wave of pain shoots through my arm. It isn't broken but it's pretty hurt. I lean back against the wall and take a deep breath. Who knew it could be so hard to be alone? I always thought there could be nothing harder than leading an alliance. But now I realize that the one thing harder is having no alliance to lead. I miss the sound of Pixel's voice, always eager to share some of her newfound knowledge. I miss Alef's subtle intelligence, the way his mouth curved into a small smile whenever he was right. I even miss Mickey's soft smile whenever he looked at the girl who would betray him. Well, he is going to die. He must have just figured, better to have loved and lost then not to love at all. For some reason, it is Aston who I have an emptiness for most of all. Why? I just feel so guilty for how I thought of her when I first saw her. I remember thinking she was pathetic. A waste of time, even. But she was so much more. She was loyal to our alliance to the very end. Oh, the way her eyes would light up whenever I said I had an idea! I miss that so much, even though I never noticed it when she was alive. You never know what you've got until it's gone, I guess. As I sit here, all alone in this empty building, memories begin to flow. A winter's morning at Aston's family's apothecary slips into my mind. Anglia had pneumonia. I was only 9, but I was scared for her. My mother's hand rested on my shoulder as we waited for Anglia's medicine to come. A man with graying hair and tired-looking eyes, the owner of the apothecary was talking to my father. Suddenly, a small girl with platinum blond hair tied in pigtails burst through the swinging doors behind the counter. "Daddy!" She shrieked, running to his arms. He grabbed her in a hug, his tired eyes looking brighter. "I'm sorry, Henry." He said to my father. "This is my daughter, Aston. Who _knows _she's not supposed to come when I'm with a customer!" He poked her stomach lightly while saying this. She giggled as he set her down.

The memory stops there. I never saw Aston again after that. What happened to the man with the tired eyes? What happened when he found out that Aston was never going to burst through those swinging doors again? I force myself to snap out of it. I've got to focus on right now. Okay, we're in the final 8. I rack my brain trying to remember who is left. Let's see, most of the Career pack is still in this arena. That's typical. There are both from 1, Amethyst and Mercury. I can recall their names just because District 1 names are hard to forget. What kinds of scores did they get? That's right. They both got 9s. Both from 2 are left as well, but I know that the girl, Jetta is alone. Mickey's still alive. Why did she save him? No one saves tributes unless an alliance is needed. But what could she possibly need from him? I guess for now I'm just glad that Mickey's alive. Mostly because he'll give the Careers a distraction from me. Lance, the boy from 2 got a 9, but Jetta got a 10. That's the highest score this year. She's the one to beat. So that means the Careers are going after Jetta and Mickey, not me. The boy from 4, with a name I can't remember, got yet another 9. I got an 8. There's just one point separating me from the Career pack. Mickey is by far the underdog, with a score of just 5. I wonder what he did for the Gamemakers. Then there's Heather. She has the same score as me. It's likely she threw knives for her session. The same knives that killed my alliance. My friends. How could she do that? There is no doubt in my mind. She is unhinged. At only 13, the Games have twisted her. How many people has she killed? There was the girl from 4 on the second day. And my two allies. Who else? Could it have been her, not the Careers that killed the youngest girl, from 7, a few days ago? I bury my head in my hands. And that's when I hear it. The familiar noise of a door opening. The noise that means I'm on the brink of death.

A voice echoes from below. "Come on, Lance. What's the point? There's probably no one in here anyway." I tense up. Lance. This can mean one thing and one thing only. The Careers are hunting. I back up against a wall. Hopeless, I know. There is nowhere to hide. So that's why this arena seemed so strange. You can't run away without seeing your enemy face-to-face because there is one way down and one way out of these buildings. And there is nowhere to hide. I draw my bow, trying to ignore the pain that shoots up my arm in protest. Footsteps echo on the stairs. They're coming. I hear a sharp, cold laugh. Amethyst, I think. "These runts are so damn hard to find!" She exclaims. That explains the strangely low death rate at their hands. They simply haven't been able to find us. Well, that and the fact that we haven't been making it easy. My palms grip the tip of the arrow. They're so sweaty that the arrow keeps slipping. I hear them get to my floor. I hear a door a few rooms down be swung open. "Surprise!" A voice shouts. I think its Mercury, or maybe the still-nameless District 4 tribute. Then it hits me. Lucius. Only one thought crosses my mind. The Careers all seem to have awful names. Especially the tributes from 1. Well, whoever it was bursting open doors trying to get kids to wet themselves is disappointed. "I'm right here, you bunch of psychotic sadists." I whisper through clenched teeth. It's not like they can hear me. However, their disappointment doesn't last long. Door after door is being flung open with a chorus of shouts to match. Then, my own doorknob twists slowly. I don't hesitate for a split second as a figure bursts into the room. I release the arrow and it finds its mark. Right at Amethyst's heart, one last icy smile on her cold face, so sure that she had found her next victim.

Mercury turns around, an expression of shock on his face at seeing his District partner lying in a crumpled heap at my feet. No, his expression is not one of grief at losing his ally, who he may even trained with at one of those illegal Centers for years. Of course. Careers are trained not to have emotions. He is simply just a little surprised to see a powerful Career lying dead on the floor, and by some scrawny District 6 kid's hands besides. He grabs a machete from his belt and I fire another arrow before he has a chance to react. It hits the wall right above him. Thanks to my sweaty palms. Lucius and Lance sprint from across the hallway. There are too many people. I can't possibly off them all. I swing my bow around, trying to shoot in the general direction of Lucius. And then I see a machete blade flash right in front of my throat. Strangely, I only felt the coolness of the blade.

Still Alive:

D1 Mercury Sullivan

D2 Lance Rhon

D2 Jetta Mason

D4 Lucius Carrel

D10 Mickey Geddes

D11 Heather Bryony

Injuries:

Jetta- hand burned in a fire caused by Heather 3 days ago

Alliances:

D1 Mercury

D2 Lance

D4 Lucius

As of 6 days ago

D2 Jetta

D10 Mickey

As of 1 day ago


	18. Right beside You

**Day 7: Jetta's POV**

Mickey lies huddled on the floor, his chest moving rhythmically. He looks smaller in sleep, like everyone else does. I can see those sponsors right now. Why would she do it? Why would a trained killer with the highest score in the arena take a scrawny kid from an outer district with the lowest score? It's so hard to explain. Sometimes I find myself confused at my own actions. But I know Mickey's stronger than he lets on. Why else would he have volunteered? And believe it or not, he makes a good ally. It's always wise to pair up with someone considerably weaker than you. He's no threat to me. As I am reaching my hand out to wake him, a booming voice literally sends me up into the air with shock. "Attention, tributes. Congratulations on making it this far." The voice has an oily quality to it that makes me feel instantly uncomfortable. Like something really awful is going to happen, but only this disembodied voice knows what it is. It's the Hunger Games, so I'm right about that. The voice continues. "There will be a feast at the Cornucopia, with a bag marked especially for you, as each of you desperately needs something." This is how feasts typically go. I run my fingers over my burned hand. It's stopped stinging. Now I can't feel a thing, except for an odd tightness. I know that's not a good thing. If I can't feel it, there's been damage to the nerves. If I want to keep my hand, I'm going to need Capital medicine and fast. With a click, the voice vanishes. "Mickey, hey Mickey, you have to get up." He shifts and groans. I hiss his name again into his ear and he finally sits up.

"Here, have some jerky." I shove the bag at him.

"Thanks." He grabs it gratefully.

"There was an announcement for the feast. We have to get going. Mickey doesn't say a word.

"Mickey, you do remember that I'm a Career, right?"

He nods quietly. He's been quiet, understandably. The girl who he loved tried to brutally murder him, after all.

"So it's about time I hunted. And if you want to live another day, you have to come with me."

Mickey just nods again. Good. He knows what he has to do. So I arm him with a dagger, even if he is inadequate with it. At least it's something. And if nothing else, he sure can run fast. We manage to get out of the building before the real trouble starts. Mickey turns to me abruptly. Everything in face says that he doesn't think he can do this. Of course. We're in the final six and he still hasn't made any kills. I haven't exactly been eliminating tributes right and left, actually Hanna was my last kill. Of course, there were a few at the bloodbath, but only the ones who were really standing in my way, like huge Rowan from 11. Well, Mickey doesn't have a choice at this point. His ally currently is without the use of her left hand. IT's not my throwing hand, but it's causing me to be off-balance. Everyone else is a trained killer, except for Heather, who at this point is just extremely mentally off. She's made quite a few kills too. I turn to Mickey as we're walking down the identical streets. "The only reason we haven't gotten to the Cornucopia sooner is because the Gamemakers are switching the streets around. So we'll be closer to the others." He tells me quickly. I nod.

"Mickey?" I manage to get out.

"Yeah?"

"When you see the little girl, kill her." I see the shock resister on his face.

"Mickey, she's not a little innocent girl! She's completely psychotic, more so than the Careers! She burned an entire building down, killing a girl younger even than her." I pause to take a breath, Lisa's sweet face appearing in my head. "Mickey, she tried to kill me." With that, he nods.

"If she tried to kill you, Jetta, I will kill her." Oh Mickey, always the noble one.

"Just don't do anything too stupid, okay my "knight in shining armor."

I see a faint smile on the corner of his lips. He assures me he won't. We walk in silence for a while, but I can still tell that there's something wrong with Mickey. He is gripping the handle of his dagger so hard that his knuckles are white. Distraction time. "Hey Mickey, remember the night on the roof?" His cheeks actually turn red. In fact, I'm surprised to find myself blushing a little bit too.

"Yeah, I remember." He whispers. "That song you were singing?"

"The one you said reminded you of your brother, Gavin?"

"Yeah. How come you were singing it?" I pause for a while.

"This is going to sound really stupid." He shrugs. My face flushes an even deeper shade of red as I whisper the next words.

"I thought that if I sang our song, maybe my sister would somehow know I was singing it. I mean, it's not like she could ever hear me or anything, but I just wanted her to somehow know that I was singing it." To my surprise, Mickey actually smiles. It's the saddest smile I've ever seen, but a smile nonetheless. He stops and puts his hand on my shoulder. If I wasn't red before, I most definitely am now. But his hand feels so warm and comfortable, like it belongs there. A fluttering begins in my stomach. I feel like I just have to say something.

"She's waiting for me, you know." Mickey smiles his soft smile again.

"Then she won't have to wait long." It's like a burst of air was let out of my chest. Of course, Mickey isn't going home. He sees the look on my face and stops me again.

"Jetta, you say your sister is waiting for you? Well, my brother is waiting for me. And I want to see him again just as badly as you want to see your little sister." I have to admit, Mickey does know how to comfort me. The thought of him being with his brother again after all of this makes me feel a little less empty inside. Even though it is still depressing. Mickey, aiming to lighten things up a bit, turns to me.

"Hey, what's your sister's name?" I smile a little at this question.

"Her name is Clove." Mickey actually starts laughing. Laughing?

"Hey!" This only gets him to laugh more. He manages to get a few words out.

"It's just that I've never heard of a District 2 kid with a name like that! I thought you guys had really tough names, like stones and weapons and stuff. You guys are supposed to sound brutal, right? But your sister's named after…he gasps as if it's the most hilarious thing in the world; your sister's named after gar-gar-garlic! Of all things!" Then, before I could stop myself, I began laughing at the pure absurdity of it.

"Well, my mother was always a strong minded woman. When she named her kid after garlic, I think it was just one last "screw you" to our District!"

As soon as the laughter came though, it's gone. Nothing ever lasts long in the Games, I've found. Especially not happiness. Just then, I spot the tip of the Cornucopia in the distance. It's time. Mickey and I get behind a building to watch what happens. "All right, let's just wait until everyone is gone and then we'll attack." I whisper to Mickey. He nods in agreement. Neither of us is really up to doing battle at this point. That's when I see them, Careers at the tip of the Cornucopia. All that's left are the three boys. I nudge Mickey and point in their direction. They haven't seen us yet, but it's not going to stay that way for long. I quickly draw a dagger out of my belt and flick it at the closest one. Mercury's body crumples to the ground, and Mickey and I are off running before his cannon even booms. Mickey sprints ahead of me at first, speeding down the streets one after another. But then he stops. He's waiting for me. And so we end up together again, crouched behind another building, the Careers long gone. We're going back to the Cornucopia to get the medicine. We're both determined to do it. And then I hear it. Footsteps. A high-pitched, sing-song voice echoes out from behind me.

"Well, hello. Isn't this a surprise?"

I turn quickly around, my braid hitting the side of my face. It's her. I draw my dagger at the same time she throws a knife. But I'm too quick and her aim is off. I doge it quickly, Mickey paralyzed with fear behind me. I look Heather in the eyes, only to see that they're shifting like mad in her sockets, as if she's keeping watch at 4 attackers at once, even if it's just me. Her hair falls limply in front of her face and her knees are swaying. An insane smile, the same one I saw right after Lisa was covered in flames, plays on her face. I charge at her, with my dagger raised. There is no thought in my mind save for how badly I want her to die. She takes off, but she's off balance. She trips and I tackle her to the ground. Panting, I drive the dagger through her heart. The cannon booms instantly. Mickey walks over to my now-sobbing form. I lean against a building and cry for a longtime. Mickey just runs his fingers up and down my back, knowing it's beyond comforting words now. The hovercraft comes to take Heather away, back to whatever family she came from. And, for some reason, I find myself looking at her face. Gone is the insane gin I expected to see. Gone is the stone-cold, expressionless glare I've seen her kill with at other times. Instead, there is just a look of fear. And that's when I see it. On her face, covered in dirt and grime after a week in the arena, is a single tear track.

Still Alive:

Jetta Mason D2

Lance Rhon D2

Lucius Carrel D4

Mickey Geddes D10

Injuries:

Jetta: burned hand (nerve damage)


	19. True Strength

**Day 7-8: Mickey's POV**

Jetta stays slumped against the wall long after the hovercraft leaves. Her body is racked with sobs. I'm beyond words. The best thing I can do is just run my hand along her back in what I hope is a calming thing. I guess it works, because Jetta has finally stopped sobbing and is now just taking deep, shaky breaths. She turns to me, her face lined in tears. "Oh God, Mickey I'm so sorry." I keep my hand on her back. It just feels better like that.

"I know, Jetta, its okay if you cry. I know." She turns to me abruptly.

"It's just that at the Training Center back home, they said they'd prepared me for everything. How could they have trained me for-for this?" She pauses to take another breath. "She was crying, Mickey! Oh God, she was crying!" Jetta crumples into my side, shaking. I bring my arm around her. I think I know what Jetta's feeling. Everyone is a person. Everyone can be afraid. Careers just aren't trained for things like that. And when, if, they ever notice it, it really comes as a shock. I stay with my arm around her until she stops shaking. We must be quite a sight. The District 10 runt who has somehow made it this far; sheltering a trained killer. But if it makes Jetta feel better, I'm willing to do it. She saved my life. And now that we're here, I might as well ask why. I turn to Jetta's form just as she leans her head into my shoulder. Oh no. Please don't let this be what I think it is. Her black hair falls in front of her face and yeah, she looks pretty. She looks so pale and weak, like she's the one who needs protecting. This isn't the same girl at the start of the Games, that I know. So I muster up the courage to ask the question that's been on my mind for days. "Jetta, why did you save my life?" She stirs and moves her head off my shoulder. I'm surprised to feel emptiness where her head once rested.

"It's just that from the start, I felt drawn to you. Like there was something different about you. Something….stronger. I guess I just wanted some of that strength to come off on me." Me? Strong? Well, who am I to prove otherwise?

"Come on, Jetta. We've got to move. We have Careers on our track." I grab her hand in what I think is a strong grip and pull her up. We start walking together. I'm not sure where we're going, but it feels safer to be moving. I stare at Jetta's hand, flaming red and lying limp at her side. "Jetta, do you think we should go back to the Cornucopia and get that medicine?" I'm really worried about her. How is she going to fight back with just one hand? I'm supposed to be protecting her now. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to her just because we didn't get the medicine that was laid out for us. She glances at her hand and nods hesitantly. So we're turned around and running back to where we started. I make sure to stay right by Jetta's side. She saved my life. I'm not going to let her lose hers. Maybe to some it would seem ridiculous, but those people have never been in the Games. If someone risks there life for you, you owe them back. No matter how different you are. Who knows? They just might surprise you. We run down the cement streets, the running shoes we're wearing slapping on the pavement, until we see the Cornucopia's familiar tip. I turn to Jetta. "Just keep running!" But she's slowing down and panting heavily. It's just like Jetta to know she can't run anymore and yet refuse to admit it. So I stop. "Let's just walk then." She offers me a defeated, if not relieved smile. Suddenly, in what seems like complete randomness, Jetta grabs my head. My heart feels like it's in my throat. Her grip tightens and I turn to her. And that's when I see it. The sword sticking out of her back.

Lucius doesn't even have a chance to draw another sword before I'm off running. The wet grass below my feet brushes against the side of my legs as I fly away. Fly away from Jetta's crumpled body, too late to save. Too late. I was too late. Too late. Too late. I barely notice as the surface beneath my feet hardens as I reach the pavement again. I don't look back. Not at my attackers, trying to catch me.

_Catch me if you can! "Look at me, Gavin, I'm an eagle!" "No you're not, runt. Quit pretending. I don't wanna play this game anymore."_

I can't think of anything else. That would slow me down. So I just run. I turn abruptly into a random building as soon as I'm sure I lost the others. I run up stairs, I'm not sure how many flights and into the first room I see. I stop to pant and I spot a loose panel on the roof. Not stopping to think, I yank it open. I jump back as a ladder falls down and then I climb on it and onto the flat roof of the building. And that's when I do it. I cry. I just sit on that roof and sob until long after the light fades. There, in the sky is Jetta's picture, made blurry by my tears. She looks so strong. So alive. Seeing that picture, her eyes full of a light I can't explain, I can't believe that she is gone. I will never see another smile or another look of determination. I will always carry that emptiness I felt when she took her head of my shoulder. And with that, I drift off to sleep.

When I wake up, my face feels tight after the tears I cried. I feel another one fall down. No. I clench my fists. I can't let Jetta see me like this. I can't let Gavin see me like this. I take a small granola bar out of my backpack and stare at the sun raising. I know it's just a projection, but it's still beautiful. And beauty is hard to come by in these Games. I think back to the moment right before I lost her. Did she grab my hand to alert me about the sword and out of the sheer pain she was feeling? Or was there a moment, just a moment, of genuine connection? I'll never know. Just then, I hear shouts from the streets below. I get down low on the roof and look over the edge. There, down on the street, Lucius and Lance are in a fight. And since they're Careers, it's a fight to the death. Lucius holds a sword as Lance tries to wrench his machete into his chest. I can hear the metal clink as it makes contact from all the way up here. Lucius manages to rake his sword across Lance's chest as Lance lets out a bloodcurdling scream. And just like that, Lance drives his machete straight into Lucius's throat. It's over before Lucius falls to the ground. A cannon sounds. Lance, clutching his bleeding chest, falls to the ground. He's not dead, I can tell. But he's in a lot of pain. Too much to fight back. I know what I have to do. Someone has to be alive to tell others about Aston's quiet loyalty, Pixel's intelligence, Alef's cunningness, Lisa's innocence, Ben's bravery, Heather's true vulnerability, and Jetta's secret love. And I'm the only one who can do that. So I grab my dagger and go down. Down flight after flight of stairs and out into the sun.


	20. Don't Forget to Remember Me

**Thresh's POV**

Cold. That was all I felt, Heather. I wanted to mourn your death like the others. In fact, you have no idea just how badly I wanted to cry. But I couldn't. What you became, Heather was beyond tears. I had to watch your every kill. And for what? You never came home anyway. That District 2 girl made sure of it. She saw you crying. Because you're human. What made you cry? Was it the fact that you realized all those kills you made, only to get back to me, were for nothing? Did you feel bad about ripping off my bracelet I gave to you? Or were you just scared? Now that the Games are over, I'm making my way over to your house. Your father said that there might be some things in your room that I could keep. Things to remember you by. But now, as I'm walking past the meadow where we played when we were little, I'm not so sure I want to do this. I've been shutting it all out for these past few days. If I get myself to not think about you, it's less painful. But now I have to face it head on. And I'm not ready for that. So it's only natural that I pause at the door. I raise my hand slowly and give the wooden door a half-hearted knock. To my surprise, Berkley, your cousin opens it right away. "Hi Thresh." He whispers. I whisper my hello back. Your other cousins and your sister are standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Amira, your sister who used to have the sweetest laugh I've ever heard, has tear streaks running down her smudged and dirty face. I guess because you aren't there to remind her to wash it. I take a deep breath and head up the ladder.

I wasn't really sure what to expect, but this wasn't really it. Yes, it's a typical District 11 bedroom, with a bunk bed crowded in one corner, looking like it might come falling down at any second. The walls are wooden and unpainted and another bed sits in the other corner. None of the beds are made and a thick layer of dust is settled over everything. Clothes lay strewn about the floor. Somehow, I know the Heather I knew wouldn't have settled for this. So for some reason, maybe just to distract myself, I find myself cleaning. I scrub with a rag I found lying on the floor until the surfaces gleam. All the clothes get put back in the set of drawers in the back. I'm just putting the last sock in, when something slips out. It's a piece of paper. I sit down and look at it. There, in bright crayon, is a picture of you and me. Given the fact that it was obviously drawn when we were both very small, it's a wonder I can even recognize us. But on the back, in hastily written script with a purple crayon it reads: Me and Thresh. If I try hard enough, I can remember when you drew that. It was on a gray, wintery day, when all the school children had to stay indoors, you had spent the entire break drawing the two of us, under an apple tree. I stare at the picture. We are holding hands.

**Anglia's POV**

The bed is cold. It's not something I wouldn't have noticed before, but you don't notice what you're missing until it's gone. When I was little, whenever I had a nightmare, I would go into your room and curl up under your covers. And it was always warm there. Are you warm where you are, Benny? I hope you're not cold like me. Are you sad that you lost? Of course, I am. But I thought about it for a while. And you know what? That boy who won has a family who must be so overjoyed to have him back. If you had won, they would be as sad as I am, maybe sadder. I watched their interview at the final eight. They had lost another son to the Games. If they had lost that boy, Mickey, they would have no one. At least mom and dad have me. I wouldn't want to have that family's happiness taken away from them. At first though, I was mad at them. I was mad at their son. I thought that somehow, someway, he could have come in and saved you, Benny, so you could have a chance at winning. I was so upset; I guess I couldn't even think straight. But now that it's been a few weeks, I know that was a pointless thing to think. What's done is done. Besides, I do think that Mickey was a good person. He didn't kill or even hurt anybody until that last tribute, who was already wounded. No one on decent ever seemed to win in the past, so I was grateful for that.

In a little while, he'll come by on his victory tour and give a speech to you. I wonder what he can say. He doesn't know how you used to take care of me. He'll never know that you could cook the best beef stew, or how you were so adept at comforting me after a nightmare. Only I know things like that. I finger the locket around my neck; a gift you gave me on my 10th birthday. It has a golden color, but it's obviously not gold, just plastic painted like that. But it has more value to me than anyone but you could know. I open it. We never had a camera, only the very rich had those, but you gave me the idea to put a small lock of my hair and a small lock of yours together, tied with a piece of string. I promised myself I wouldn't cry too much. I don't want our mother and father to see me. If you're gone, someone's got to be strong for them. But now that I'm all alone in your room, no one can see me. I don't think anyone will mind. So I cry. It's just a few tears at first, but it gradually gets worse until my whole body is shaking. I can't stop, but I don't want to. I just can't stop thinking of all the things that you'll never get to do. But I force myself to stop. I know you wouldn't want to see me like this. And you wouldn't cry like this either. If you aren't here, someone has to carry on your strength.

**Clove's POV**

_Pitter Patter. _That's the sound the rain is making on the window. I watch each raindrop slowly make its way down the windowpane. I've been staring out this window for so long, I've stopped counting. I think it's been a few weeks, but I'm not sure. I lean back and think about those other big kids who got to go on that stage and then were taken away. Were most of them back by now? When I think about, maybe some of them didn't come home. I was scared when you left and I cried. I didn't want to be alone for a long time. But I'm not going to be lonely for much longer. You're coming back soon, I know it. You wouldn't leave me all alone, like mommy did. Any second now, you'll come walking down that street, wet and tired, but smiling. Because you'll have won that contest you were in. I know you were at a Game, and knowing my sister, you won. You really like winning. I do too. You win a lot more than me, because you're big and I'm small. But I'm trying hard, and with your help, I'm winning lots more. And when you walk down that street you will see me watching at this window and you will wave and throw your arms open, like you're going to give me a hug. You don't hug me all that much, only when I really need it. But you've been gone for a long time; at least that's how it seems to me. So I know you're gonna have to hug me when you get back. I can't wait. You're arms feel all warm and safe.

I saw you on the screen a little while ago. You were wearing a really pretty dress. You always look pretty, but you looked especially pretty then. I was really proud that you were my big sister. All the other little kids looked all jealous because they didn't have a sister who got to be on television. I didn't get to see the Games you were taking about, but I wanted to. I wanted to see you win. But the adults said I wasn't old enough. _Next year, that's when you'll be old enough, but wait till then. _I was really mad. My sister was in those Games and it was just one year! But when you get back I'm sure you'll tell me all about it. I just have to wait until then. I hum a little song to myself. It's the one you sing all the time.

_Don't you fret my dear, _

_It'll all be over soon_

_I'll be waiting here_

_For you_

I'm waiting for you, Jetta. It won't be long now. You'll come back, I know it. It won't be long.


End file.
